


Blossom

by kogosaiyajin



Series: Bit By Bit [1]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, Drama, F/M, Family Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:47:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29847957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kogosaiyajin/pseuds/kogosaiyajin
Summary: Vegetasei has been destroyed, leaving teenaged Vegeta and Kakarot hurtling to Earth in escape pods. How will they cope with this loss?
Series: Bit By Bit [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194413
Kudos: 2





	1. (Prologue) Destruction, Escape, & Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> "Blossom" is part 1 of 3 of the story "Bit by Bit", novel 1 in my canon rewrite of Dragon Ball, "Dragon Ball Yume"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A betrayal has rocked Vegetasei and the planet's destruction is imminent.

JANUARY, 749, PLANET VEGETA, MILKY WAY GALAXY

**_BOOM!_ **

An ear-shattering vibration snapped Vegeta awake, setting his blood racing. Sirens blared and he could hear shouting voices echoing through the hallways.

“…attacking! The defense….tampered…”

He snatched his battle suit and yanked it on, clawing about the darkened room for his scouter and shoving it into place hurriedly. As he stepped toward the door activator a loud _whoosh_ sounded as it opened, revealing his mother on the other side of it. The warning lights flashed in Kovoka’s dark eyes as she lunged towards Vegeta, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him into the hallway.

“You must see the King! Quickly!”

He flinched at the contact, his mother never touched him. He only saw her every few dozen sun cycles, and even then it was passing. Even as the heir to the Saiyan throne, he hadn’t been afforded contact with his mother for long after birth and he could barely remember his younger years at her side now. He knew he was lucky to recognize her at all, since most warriors left their unborn children in tanks to be carried to term, never seeing them again.

“What is happening, Kovoka? Are we being attacked?” he asked sharply, his posture tensing even more.

Her lips tightened at his flinch and tone and she reluctantly released him. “Lord Freiza’s army has returned. Our defense systems have somehow failed. I do not have time to explain more, we must go, now!”

Without waiting for him, she turned and hurried down the corridor stairs. He cursed and followed her.

Lord Freiza, as he titled himself, had lurked about Planet Vegeta for as long as the prince could remember, offering glory and battle to high-ranking and hot-headed Saiyan warriors seeking more adventure than simple space piracy of resources. He knew his father tolerated Freiza only out of a desire to avoid war so soon after their domination of the Tuffles; they had lost too many warriors and their technology was too newly acquired.

They neared the end of the corridor, his pace quickening to match that of the Queen’s, and the sound of shouting and battle cries crept across the surface of the floor and wall. He felt his tail curl tighter about his waist and his blood heat, recognizing shouts of valor from the warriors. The acrid smell of what he now recognized as the explosion that woke him stung his nose.

A second explosion rocked the palace, shaking loose stones from the walls and ceiling. He threw his arm up, his vision obscured by the dust, and saw his mother had not even slowed her pace as she strode towards the main doors leading to the courtyard. They had not closed half the distance of the hall when the doors blew open, giving a sickening groan as the glass shattered in its frame and smashed to the ground. He felt his mother’s fury on the edge of their bond, singing him and pushing his own anger higher.

_Freiza._

His thoughts were interrupted by his mother’s voice, shouting thunderously over the din. “All of the child warriors to the launch room! NOW!” She turned to him and pointed hastily toward the now eviscerated doorway. “The King is in the launch control tower. Go to him!”

Her sentence was not even over when Vegeta tore across the wasted floor, white boots lifting as he took flight towards the tower. The second he looked up, however, he nearly came crashing right back down, his still-new handle on flying shaken by the sight in front of him. The remnants of their energy shield were sizzling and snapping, fire arcing off of them as dozens – no _hundreds_ of ships tore through, magically unharmed by what was supposed to be their greatest defensive adoption of the Tuffles.

Already, the courtyard was littered with burning ships and dead bodies, both Freiza’s soldiers and those of Saiyan blood. He forced himself to concentrate and lifted himself higher, seeking out his father’s energy through the bond.

_I will make them pay!_

He touched down roughly on the landing pad of the tower, his crimson cloak snapping in the gusts of wind generated by the spaceships screaming over his head. The door hissed open next to him and he rushed down the stairs to see his father and Nappa standing over the controls. Nappa offered him hurried salute, his left arm bending to touch his fist to the same shoulder as Vegeta returned the gesture.

“It’s Freiza, isn’t it?” he growled at his father, feeling the same rage from him as his mother.

But he felt something else, too, as he reached out to share his own anger - urgency _._ King Vegeta nodded and Nappa cursed foully.

“It would seem voluntary service is no longer in his interest and he seeks to destroy our power. He is a coward, seeking to attack us from within, without warning. HE HAS NO HONOR!” King Vegeta roared the last part.

“What do you mean from within?” Vegeta asked, his eyes narrowing and his tail bristling. “No Saiyan would ever stain their pride to sell out their people to that fucking monster!”

“Not our own, Prince,” Nappa snarled, “Freiza must have sent a spy. The targeting systems in the control tower are destroyed. They flew right in, with no resistance from the shields. We’re still not sure how they even managed to do that.”

“None of that matters, now.” King Vegeta replied, “Come with me, both of you.”

He pressed his hand to the control on the wall and another door opened to a lift. They descended for only seconds before the door widened for their exit. The top-level launch center was chaos, with dozens of young Saiyans, most of them nowhere near his age, clamoring about and fighting amongst themselves. A few older Saiyans rushed around the room, cuffing their subordinates and shoving them into pods. Vegeta watched as a young girl clamored in, yelling at the attendant that she wanted to stay and fight. Hearing none of it, he shoved her and snapped the pod door shut before slamming the eject button. Vegeta watched in shock as the pod jettisoned out into space.

He knew her, and he knew something was wrong. Tomoe was the daughter of one of his father’s consorts, her power level incredibly high. Why would she be sent to a planet like some third-class brat, destined to die alone? And why now, in the middle of a battle?

“What is this?” He asked his father in confusion.

“Preservation.” Came King Vegeta’s clipped reply. “Freiza is clearly bent on destruction. He did not send a warning, he does not seek a battle. He seeks to annihilate us. I will not allow our race to come to its end at the hands of this sniveling lizard.”

Vegeta could not speak, feeling shame course from his father’s bond.

“You are to go to Planet 4032-877 with Bardock’s son, Kakarot.” his father continued.

As if hearing his name on cue, Kakarot skidded to a stop between Vegeta and the King, taking a defensive stance.

“We don’t want to run! We want to fight with you and kill these invaders! We-” he didn’t finish his sentence as Nappa’s tail went flying and cracked him across the back of the knees, sending him to the floor.

“You will do as you are told, _boy._ ” The giant Saiyan thundered, “The King’s decisions are not for you to question.”

Kakarot glared up at him as he clamored back to his feet. Vegeta had been prepared to ask for an explanation, but not to appear as insubordinate as Kakarot, he instead steeled himself and faced his father.

“What is our objective, my King?” He asked, fighting to keep the most formal of tones.

The King pointed to the pod standing next to him. “Go to this planet. Seek power, become stronger, and remember the legends of our greatest warriors. Gather these remnants of our race.”

Vegeta backed up into the pod haughtily. “I don’t need this brat with me to attain power. Not even a Child of Proving.”

“I know.” The King answered. “He is not going for your benefit but for his own. Your duty one day as king will be to protect your race. Start here. No one is above the benefits of a battle bond.”

Vegeta fell back into the pod, his chest tightening with overwhelming emotions; anger, betrayal, pride in his father, hope in their victory, but horror as the knowledge that his planet, people, and family would be destroyed.

Nappa was pointing Kakarot toward the pod next to Vegeta, but the rest of the room had become a blur. Vegeta reached for the hatch button, prepared to lose everything. At the last second, his father laid a hand on his shoulder – the first time in his life his he had ever touched him.

“You will reclaim your throne. You will avenge us, my son.”

Vegeta sat, too shocked to move at the unusual display of emotion as the hatch door closed. He heard a _ding_ and was slammed into the back of his seat as his father’s hand hit the eject button. Pain flowed through the bond.

* * *

Shockwaves rippled across the void of space as Vegetasei was targeted by Freiza’s massive energy beam. Searing hot pain, anguish, loss, and terror shot through Kakarot. Horror washed over him like a tidal wave as he thought of his family, their deaths ripping a piece of his soul from him.

_Mother! Father! Radditz! They’re all gone._

He had no time to grieve, his body succumbing to the sleeping gas courtesy of his pod’s stasis functions. Vegetasei was a tiny burning dot in the distance, explosions ripping it apart. His cries died in his throat, the rapidly disappearing blaze the last thing he saw before his eyes shut and his body succumbed to nightmares.

Delete Created with Sketch.

Vegeta watched as the green-and-blue orb hurtled towards him, the pull of its gravity yanking the pod down rapidly. Something was wrong, _seriously_ wrong. Vegeta had landed on plenty of planets with gravity stronger than Vegetasei, but according to the pod’s system, this “earth” was only a tenth of his home. Yet here he was, awoken from stasis by the adrenaline gas that was administered during landing to hear warnings and see his pod humming at this planet with unusual speed. He could see Kakarot through the window and flipped his comms on. The feedback was deafening; Kakarot’s pod warnings were going crazy.

“What the hell is going on, Vegeta?!” Kakarot’s voice sounded anxious. It was that of a boy who had not yet mastered himself or his emotions.

Vegeta, dazed from both nightmares of his parents’ death and his sudden awakening, could not answer at first. When he did, he couldn’t contain the shake in his voice despite trying and hoped the shitty landing would seem to excuse it.

“Fuck if I know! We’re landing too fast!”

“What? Why?!”

“I don’t know!” Vegeta spat angrily, “I’m a prince, not a goddamn pod tech! This planet’s gravity is supposed to be weak, I checked it during one of the stasis breaks. Brace yourself, it looks like our landing will be nasty.”

Kakarot didn’t respond and Vegeta took a deep breath. In the mere seconds while they had spoken the planet had come even closer.

_We’re going to fucking die. This was for nothing!_

He raged in his seat, feeling helpless, powerless to stop his plummet to death. Even if he could eject in time and fly, Kakarot was incapable of flying and would die. His father’s last words flashed in his head.

_Everyone can benefit from a battle bond. One day you must rule your people. Start here._

The pod shook, rattling and groaning with horrifying noises.

**_THIRTY SECONDS TO LANDING_ **

The warning system continued to beep at him in vain.

**_TWENTY SECONDS TO LANDING_ **

The control panel caught fire, smoking as it rained sparks down on him.

**_TEN SECONDS TO LANDING_ **

Vegeta closed his eyes and waited for death as the computer voice shorted out and shut up. All he could hear was the deafening roar of the air around him, and then, nothing. His body erupted in pain and his vision went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a completely fan-made work and is not officially affiliated in any way with or endorsed by the Dragon Ball universe, franchise, films, manga, tv specials or games. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, Dragon Ball Super, and all associated franchises are the property of Akira Toriyama, Fuji TV, Toei Animation, Funimation, and their respective creators, writers, artists & publishers. Please support the official release.


	2. A Disastrous Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After crash landing on Earth, Vegeta has a tough lesson to learn about what to expect from the planet's inhabitants.

MAY, 749, PLANET EARTH-4032, MILKY WAY GALAXY

Vegeta was warm, but not too much so. A delicious aroma tickled his senses, something foreign and rich he’d never encountered before. His eyes slowly opened, taking in completely unfamiliar surroundings.

_The ship. Kakarot!_

He bolted upright from where he lay on the floor. His head spun and pain ravaged his skull behind his eyes. He squinted, looking around, and noticed an old man sitting next to a roaring fire.

“You were beginning to give me quite the fright, young man. I could feel both of your energy levels dropping constantly.” the old man looked concerned.

“Where is the other Saiyan?” Vegeta demanded of him.

The old man held up his hands defensively, “If you mean the boy who you carried out of your crash he is right next to you.” he elaborated, gesturing towards the wall opposite him.

Vegeta whipped his head to the side, regretting the too-quick movement again as another wave of dizziness struck him.

_Damn, he was starving._

Kakarot was lying next to him on some sort of bed, bandages wrapped around his head and multiple limbs. Vegeta looked down at his own body to see similar wrappings.

_My armor!_

“Where are my belongings, old man!? What have you done with our things!” he snapped, outraged with himself over the feverish pitch to his voice.

“I didn’t want to go near the wrecks for fear of injuring myself. I’ve done what I could to clean your armor, but the garments the other boy wore were damaged beyond repair. You’ll find them there, on that small chair.”

Vegeta turned his head, slowly this time, to see that the old man was telling the truth.

“I’ve some old things that may fit you,” the old man continued. “I thought it unwise to worry about them until you were more recovered.”

Eyes narrowing, Vegeta asked, “And what do you expect in return? Why did you help us and not kill us where we stood or let us die?”

The old man chuckled, “No one was standing when I reached you, and who would leave two young boys stranded and alone after such a terrible accident?”

His lip curled into a sneer and Vegeta spat out, “I am not some _boy_ , I am the Prince of all Saiyans!” but his indignation was undermined by his body as the raised voice caused him to cough raggedly. He spat out blood on the floor.

The announcement seemed to have no effect on the old man, who simply rubbed his upper lip with a finger and laughed mildly. “Oh ho ho! Well, Prince of all Saiyans, I am Son Gohan, and I suggest you put more effort into recovering.”

Vegeta opened his mouth to retort but his stomach gave a ravenous growl.

_By the gods, he was starving._

“I’ve been giving you boys what broth I could to sustain you but that noise of yours has become more frequent and leaves me thinking you might need more to eat.”

“So you can poison me?” Vegeta snorted.

“Are you poisoned now? I have cared for you both for two whole days.” Gohan responded calmly, seemingly unruffled by the accusation.

Vegeta flushed, having no response. The man’s calm demeanor evoked a rage within him. He wasn’t sure how long this Earth day was but he had to admit that if the man was going to kill them, he probably would have done so by now. Until he had foolishly admitted his title, this Gohan definitely had no idea who he was, and his pod’s information about the planet indicated no extremely strong warriors as its inhabitants. Still, he was wary of this stranger.

“I will hunt, old man. If I return and Kakarot is harmed – “ Gohan chuckled at him. “any _more_ harmed,” Vegeta gritted out, “no injury will stop me from killing you on the spot.”

He forced himself to his feet, allowing a moment for the dizziness to clear before heading towards the stack of garments on which his armor lay. The chest piece was all that remained of his armor, its bright white surface pitted and scraped, soot worked into the deep gashes, but the royal Saiyan crest remained emblazoned on its left breast. Beneath it lay dark blue clothes made of some fabric that refused to stretch. He held them up and turned to Gohan.

“These seem to serve no purpose outside a bathhouse.” He said flatly.

“No bathhouse here, but there is a river nearby,” Gohan said in the same casual tone.

“Tch.” Vegeta turned away again.

He saw his cape, his marker of Saiyan royalty, on the bottom of the pile and snatched it up quickly.

“I am going to this _river_ of yours and I will return with food.” Holding himself as dignified as possible, he walked from the house.

* * *

As he followed his nose to the river, the sound of rushing water grew steadily louder, and it occurred to Vegeta that he had no idea what lived on this planet or was even edible. The river widened here, and it seemed the old man had manipulated the flow to deepen it as well to make a crude pool.

_How hard can it be?_

He peered over the edge of the riverbank, wondering what sort of creatures lived in this. Vegetasei had no water source of its own; the needs of the people were met by complicated machines the Tuffles had created that morphed universal elements into clean water. He had, however, been to other planets that did have naturally occurring water sources, and they were usually rife with many species that called the water home.

An enormous animal flashed by his eyes, swaying in the water with minimal movements and incredible speed. Suddenly, the animal leaped out of the water’s surface; it had a gaping maw devoid of teeth and bladelike appendages on its sides and back. The unexpected movement caused him to jump back cautiously. As quickly as it had risen it hit the water with a loud splash and went back under, its scaly flesh glinting in the sun.

Angered instantly at having been startled by something with no teeth, he instinctively shot his ki at its retreating form and was rewarded with the dead body floating to the surface. He snatched it up but almost fell into the water, the single blast having drained him of the minuscule amount of ki he had. Regretfully, he realized he would not be able to fly back with the beast after expending the energy. He laid the strange animal on the bank of the river, looking around until he found something proper to spit the animal on to cook it. With the last of his energy, he shot a tiny bolt of ki at the base to burn a fire.

Exhaustion already overtaking him, he peeled off his bandages before stepping into the water. As he settled, the events of the past three days hit him like a kick in the gut.

Kovoka’s face flashed before his eyes, her hand on his arm, imploring him to come with her.

_Why did I pull away from her!?_

King Vegeta’s face overtook the image, his eyes boring a hole into Vegeta as he touched his son for the first time.

_Why didn’t I say something?!_

Vegetasei exploded in a blinding light, sending searing pain across his eyes again.

_My home….my home is gone….forever._

He unconsciously reached for his mother’s bond – and failed.

_No! I felt her!_

His thoughts screamed inside his head.

_I felt her die…_

His father’s voice echoed in his head then, his words burned into his memory.

_You will reclaim your throne. You will avenge us, my son._

He felt his chest tighten and strangled the feeling. It didn’t matter how he felt. It didn’t matter what happened. All that mattered was his mission, his goal, his father’s – no, his _King’s_ orders. He would avenge them, every single one of them that died in that far-flung corner of the cosmos, the collateral damage of some contemptible coward’s fear of being overthrown.

Heat pooled within him then, igniting a rage unparalleled by even what he felt through his now severed bond, consuming every other emotion he felt until he was nothing but anger. His stomach growled again at the smell of the animal cooking, and he scrubbed at his skin angrily as one thought alone consumed him.

_Vengeance._

* * *

The “Prince” slammed the door so hard on his way out the roof of Gohan’s small house shook. The old man sighed, glancing at the other boy who was still unconscious.

_The Prince of all Saiyans?_

Gohan had certainly never heard of a Saiyan, but clearly these boys were not human. The writing he had noticed on their ships from the distance he had kept was no Earth language, even though they spoke the intergalactic tongue, and both boys had tails remarkably similar to a monkey’s. Not to mention, he genuinely thought the haughty “Prince” would have fallen to his knees upon trying to walk after two measly days of rest and broth, but he had stomped out of the house with vigor. Any normal human should have been dead on impact, yet here they were, still alive.

_They must be aliens._

For all his talk of nobility, the one calling himself the prince was rough, clearly inept at interacting with others, or being civil. His ki, while incredibly intense and strong for someone his age, felt jagged and unrefined, much like metal ore torn from its resting place buried in rock.

The other boy seemed to be healing well, despite the astounding wound he had taken to the head. The prince’s ki might have been strong, but this Saiyan’s was fascinating, ebbing and changing by the hour like the tide on the shores. Walking over to the bed, he began examining the boy’s injuries.

Gohan pulled back the blanket that covered his body and furrowed his brow in surprise. He had just examined him the day before, but now all the largest wounds even were almost completely knitted closed, the small ones nonexistent to the point he wondered if they had even been there at all. The swelling from the badly broken leg had dissipated, leaving behind the mildest of bruising, despite still being broken.

 _No one should heal like this._ Gohan marveled.

The Saiyan’s breathing was even, almost back to normal, and while the bleeding from his head had stopped completely, he still worried because of the troublesome nature of head injuries. He was quite certain the boy’s skull had been opened during the accident. Gohan cautiously removed the head wrapping to find new, pink, but swollen flesh where a gory gash had been two days ago.

 _Troublesome indeed._ He mused to himself.

The prince might have walked off his physical injuries, but it was clear he was in agonizing emotional and mental pain. His already black eyes had seemed endless pools of loss and apprehension as he met Gohan’s eyes when they spoke, his posture cold and guarded despite being protective of his companion. It would seem Gohan had his hands full.

* * *

A week had passed, and Vegeta had begrudgingly given his name to Gohan but refused to speak further on the circumstances that led them to Earth. Each morning he left, not to be seen again until the sun was setting, either lugging home some wild animal to hang over the fire or smelling of the one he had eaten already. The two sat in silence one night, Vegeta finishing the remains of a wild pig so large Gohan had been certain he would give up before finishing.

“How long till he’s better, old man?” Vegeta asked, draining a jug of water as he waited for a response.

“He seems to be healing very quickly, but that head injury is nasty. It could be as much as several months, and even then, there could be obstacles.”

Vegeta simply grunted in response. It was true, Saiyans healed rapidly, but he didn’t know of anyone who had injuries like Kakarot who hadn’t immediately been submitted to a healing tank.

“I cannot stay here. I have…business to attend to.” He finally said, sharply, “As far as I have been able to discern, you know nothing of us and have so far refrained from attacking us. I cannot take Kakarot with me, and must leave him to your care.” He paused. “Do not make me regret this decision, old man.”

Gohan stared at him steadily. “Instead of leaving straight away, why don’t I teach you?”

Vegeta threw back his head and laughed, “Teach me what, _old man?”_

“The martial arts. They are a refinement of mind, body, and spirit. They may help you in the many battles you may face in life, both with yourself and others.”

Vegeta laughed even harder at him, “I don’t need to be talked down to by a hermit with a power level so low it wasn’t picked up by my ship’s planetary scan.”

“Is that so?” Gohan remarked. He didn’t break his steady gaze, but his eyes twinkled and the expression unnerved Vegeta.

“Tch.” Vegeta crossed his arms and looked away.

“What if this weak old man were to prove you wrong?” Vegeta didn’t answer, and Gohan continued, “How about we step away from the house and I show you what I’m capable of? Unless you’re scared.”

Vegeta’s eyes flashed and he stood up so fast he nearly upset the water jug. “A proud Saiyan such as myself fears nothing.”

With that, he strode away from the fire, Gohan following behind him. Vegeta walked a hundred meters and realizing Gohan had stopped; turned to face the old man and planted his feet.

_That pathetic smile! He’s just taunting me, I know it. He may have shown us great hospitality and care but it does not give him the right to act so brazenly._

Vegeta’s blood heated and he rushed Gohan, looking to end this farce with a single blow. Vegeta was almost upon Gohan, but he still hadn’t moved; clearly, Vegeta thought, Gohan was in over his head. He swung with all of his might and….missed. Before he could process what happened he was falling through the fading image of Gohan and landing hard, tumbling over on the ground. Looking around, he stood up, even angrier than before at being tricked, and there the old man was, standing right where Vegeta himself had begun their encounter – the same ridiculous smile, the same posture with his hands behind his back.

“That was quite a fall!” Gohan called out, “A rather masterful technique indeed! You certainly showed my after image what for.”

Putting all of his strength in his legs, Vegeta lunged forward to swipe at Gohan with a sweeping kick, but the effect was the same as before. From somewhere up above, he heard the old man’s voice call out to him.

“My, my, persistent aren’t we?”

Vegeta’s teeth ground, the old man was standing atop a tree now, his expression and posture unchanged. “Stop running and fight me!” he roared up at him.

“Oh, have we started fighting yet? Are you sure you don’t need more time to warm up?”

Vegeta pulled back and making a fist slammed the tree so hard his hand came out the other side of the narrow trunk, immediately sending it toppling. He saw Gohan leap from the tree and narrowed his eyes, tracking his trajectory.

_Now’s my chance._

He raced toward him, his fist curling back again, ready to punch the smug look off the old man’s face once and for all. The distance closed almost instantly between them.

_Got him._

**_THUNK!_ **

Vegeta’s body slammed into nothing, the force of his momentum sending him flying backward and rolling across the ground several dozen meters.

_Impossible! I never even touched him!_

He raged mentally, not understanding how his precise calculations could fail him.

“You seem to have fallen again!” Gohan called out to him. “What an interesting style, fighting from down there on the ground. Perhaps I was wrong, perhaps it is you who could teach me a thing or two.”

“I’ll end you like I’ve ended hundreds of others!” Vegeta raged, feeling his blood light afire as he drew all his strength into his hands.

Something in Gohan’s stance and expression shifted then - happy and cheerful becoming dark and serious - but in his fury, Vegeta didn’t even notice.

“Galick gun, FIRE!” Vegeta yelled, unleashing every bit of energy he could muster. He knew the attack would leave him drained but was counting on obliterating Gohan and being able to recover.

* * *

The Galick Gun flew towards Gohan, its vibrant purple fire against the setting sun casting dark shadows across Vegeta’s face. He could see the young boy’s expression, twisted in emotion. It was clear that everything he had suffered, all his hatred towards his circumstances, all his rage, was in this one attack. What had begun as an attempt at an exercise in self-control had become Vegeta desperately lashing out. Gohan knew that if he didn’t stop this attack, it would kill him.

Bracing himself where he stood, he summoned his Explosive Wave, shaping it into a curved shield to deflect the violet orb of pure vitriol headed for him. He knew he had to time this perfectly, or the attack would break right through the shield.

_Now!_

“HAAAAAA!” Gohan yelled, throwing his palms forward as the Galick Gun raced up the invisible shield and shot up into the sky, disappearing in an instant before exploding far beyond the earth.

Delete Created with Sketch.

Vegeta looked on, aghast, as his strongest attack shot up into the sky and out of sight before creating a violet shower of energy.

_How…?!_

Exhaustion overtook him and he sunk to the ground, unable to support his weight. He looked at Gohan, who had resumed his posture from before, but his smile had been replaced with a look of anger and disappointment.

“There’s good in you boy, I can sense that, but you do not fight with your head, you fight with your emotions. Stay here and let me teach you.”

“We’re not done here yet, old man!” Vegeta panted, struggling to rise.

“Aren’t we?”

Vegeta fell back to his knees again, his body refusing to cooperate after the huge amount of energy the Galick Gun took from him. He had no choice but to watch Gohan turn around and slowly walk back to the house.

“How long until he is healed?”

Gohan stopped for a moment before replying, “Three months.”

“I’ll be back, then.” Vegeta promised, a tinge of threat in his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a completely fan-made work and is not officially affiliated in any way with or endorsed by the Dragon Ball universe, franchise, films, manga, tv specials or games. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, Dragon Ball Super, and all associated franchises are the property of Akira Toriyama, Fuji TV, Toei Animation, Funimation, and their respective creators, writers, artists & publishers. Please support the official release.


	3. Memories Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta returns to collect Kakarot and finds that all is not as it was when he left.

AUGUST, 749

Vegeta had watched the moon form and pass three times, fascinated at this world where it came so quickly. Gohan had told him this moon, and the single sun was how Earthlings measured the passage of time into ‘days’ and ‘months’. He refused to think of or focus on anything other than his humiliation at the hands of a man who shouldn’t have been able to defeat a Saiyan infant. Yet he had deflected his ultimate attack - the attack Vegeta had used once before to destroy a planet left wrecked and dead by civil war. He had wanted to see if he could do it, just because, just to prove himself. The effort that time had left him so exhausted he barely made it back to his pod, back to oxygen, before his body gave way to unconsciousness.

Reliving the fight with Gohan drew a growl from him. All this time he’d spent on Earth and still his Galick Gun left him drained; he hadn’t found a single opponent who could touch him and he knew without Zenkai his progress would crawl. It was time to go back and collect Kakarot. It was time they left in search of stronger foes - and other Saiyans.

_I must become stronger. No, I will!_

Vegeta neared Gohan’s house and immediately spotted Kakarot, who was standing outside moving around in a strange bouncing manner before grabbing part of what appeared to be an enormous felled tree and tossing it into the air.

“HAAAAAA!” Kakarot exclaimed, launching himself into the air and landing a solid punch on the wood. The blow splintered the tree into pieces as Kakarot landed back on the ground, kneeling.

_What the fuck is he doing?_

Vegeta closed the distance between them. Kakarot broke into an uncomfortably cheerful smile and waved, noticing Vegeta. “Hi, there!” he called out.

“What are you doing?” Vegeta asked, confused, watching Kakarot strap a strange red stick to his back.

“I’m taking Nyoibou and going out to hunt food, of course.”

“Where did you get that stick and why did you name it?” Vegeta asked.

“Grandpa Gohan gave it to me. Are you hungry?” his tail waved behind him lazily.

“Grandpa…Gohan,” Vegeta repeated, incredulous.

Oblivious to his confusion, Kakarot dusted himself off and broke into a run, headed towards the forest already.“Come on, let’s find some food!”

Vegeta swore, following after him. As soon as they reached the mouth of the trees though, Kakarot suddenly jumped erratically to the side. Vegeta’s eyes narrowed, his tail tightening around his waist and he dug his boots into the ground, searching for the predator he was sure Kakarot was attempting to evade or hunt already. He dropped the stance almost as quickly though, watching Kakarot continue his movements, jumping from ledge to ledge and then into a tree, whooping in delight with each hop.

Vegeta flew after him to catch up.“Stop all that yelling and leaping around, it’s pointless!”

Catching himself by his tail on a branch, Kakarot swung upside down to face Vegeta, stopping him in his flight.

“Pointless? But I’m havin’ fun!” He flung himself off the branch, swinging clear across the ravine below them and landing on the other side, laughing mischievously, “Watch this!”

He hopped up into a tree, kicking the top of it and releasing a shower of bright red spheres that fell to the ground. Before Vegeta could respond, one of the spheres whizzed by his head and smashed into a tree behind him.

“You gotta catch ‘em to eat ‘em!” Kakarot hollered.

_How does he know what to eat? What if these are poisonous?_

Vegeta caught the next one in his hand, suspiciously inspecting the sphere. It smelled sweet and sharp and gave way under his fingers as he gave it a squeeze.

Kakarot fell out of the tree, laughing, “You eat ‘em, not crush ‘em!”

Vegeta’s face flamed as he hummed the crushed mess back at his companion before flying over to the tree.“What is this ridiculousness? This is not hunting!”

“Of course not, its fruit! Who are you anyway, how come you don’t know how to eat an apple?”

Vegeta stopped in his tracks, landing on the ground. “What do you mean ‘who are you’ don’t you remember me?” His fists clenched at his side.

_What had that old man done to him?_

“Kakarot we came here together, it’s barely been three Earth moons since I left you. I told that old man - Gohan - to take care of you, and now you don’t even know who I am?”

“Kakarot? No, I’m Son Goku!” he said, stuffing an entire one of the apples into his mouth and chewing noisily.

Vegeta bristled, but Kakarot cut him off. “Grandpa said I should wait for my friend to come, and he would explain what happened. I sure had an awful sore head for a while!”

“I am that friend,” Vegeta said, through gritted teeth.

Kakarot peered at him. “I’m pretty sure I would recognize my friend, and you sure aren’t bein’ very nice.”

“We lost our home, Kakarot! How can you have forgotten!” His voice was getting louder, his fists clenching at his side. “Everything was destroyed, we were forced to come here like cowards with our tails between our legs!” _Avenge…._ His father’s words echoed in his head.

“Why would we put our tails between our legs?” Kakarot asked, staring at him carelessly.

Vegeta threw himself at Kakarot then, sending him flying and following his descent to stand over him. “We have to get strong, we have to go back and kill them all! WHERE IS YOUR PRIDE!?” He was shaking with fury, the explosion of Vegetasei burning a hole in his mind.

Kakarot wrinkled his nose as he rubbed his chest where Vegeta had smacked into him. “Hey, that’s not very nice! I don’t even remember your name, how should I know what happened? Grandpa Gohan didn’t tell me any of that stuff.”

“HE IS NOT YOUR GRANDPA!” Vegeta roared.

_Why of all people had he been stuck with this idiot_ _Kakarot_ _?_

“Have you always been this stupid? Before you hit your head? I am Vegeta, your Prince, and we are Saiyan warriors!”

Delete Created with Sketch.

Kakarot didn’t understand the scene unfolding in front of him. This guy had to be his friend Grandpa Gohan had told him about, he hadn’t even seen another person near their house, and he couldn’t remember anything really from before he woke up one day to Grandpa standing over him. Everything had hurt, and he felt alone, but Grandpa had taken care of him and taught him to fight, to train and get strong so he could beat up anything he wanted to eat.

He looked up at Vegeta and thought about what Grandpa Gohan had told him about helping people who were sad. Vegeta certainly looked sad – well, he definitely didn’t look happy, even though this was the best apple tree in the whole ravine _and_ they had it to themselves. Perhaps he could comfort him. He stood up and reached for Vegeta to give him a friendly pat on the shoulder, trying to understand why his friend was upset.

* * *

Vegeta saw Kakarot reach for him, but the movement didn’t seem aggressive, only confusing. Before he could object, he felt a hand on his shoulder and every memory he’d suppressed for the past three months came flooding to the surface of his consciousness.

The severed bond with his parents shattered him again, the sensation of something being ripped away from his insides, leaving him raw and broken. His parent’s faces flashed before him, their grave expressions forever committed to memory. The almost unbearable light of the planetary explosion, the panic of their descent to earth, the unbridled terror he heard in Kakarot’s voice over their crackling comms as they plummeted to their near death.

The agonizing crawl to rescue his companion from the smoking wreckage, the pain shooting through his entire body as he struggled to exit the crater and find shelter. He tried to push the pain away, tamp down the suffering, but it continued to flood him.

_I have to get away from this._

He staggered backward, away from Kakarot, gasping for breath with his chest afire.

“What the fuck did you do to me!” he shouted, angry at having re-lived his pain by force.

* * *

Kakarot took a step back, feeling sick to his stomach at what he’d just felt. He had only sought to help his friend feel better.

“I don’t know really, Grandpa Gohan told me when you really wanna help someone you can feel what they feel. Did he call it….entroy? Apathy? Empathy? I don’t really remember, but anyway he said it can make it easier to understand to-”

Vegeta cut him off, putting several meters between them as he backed up, “Don’t ever do that again, Kakarot,” He said, severely.

Kakarot looked at him somberly. “I don’t remember any of that,” was his soft reply.

King Vegeta’s words continued to echo in his mind.

_You will reclaim your throne. You will avenge us, my son_

The words had been meant for Vegeta, but he heard them in his own head as Vegeta relived them. He knew then that the only way to help his friend feel better was to do exactly what he said – what the King said – and avenge their people. Even if he couldn’t remember it firsthand, he now had the understanding that the two of them were virtually alone. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of both of their stomachs growling in protest at their delay in hunting.

* * *

Vegeta’s boots hit the ground in a rush as he chased after Kakarot, who clearly knew the route he was taking to the ravine below. He refused to lose, even if it was such a silly race, and already seeking to flee his overwhelming emotions, he threw himself into the competition, glad to put the unsettling interaction out of his mind. An idea struck him, and he veered away from Kakarot, plunging over the side of the ravine in a flying burst. He stopped himself just short of the water and sped along its surface. He could hear Kakarot’s idiotic shouts of glee as he crashed through the trees above him.

He spotted a small outcropping of rocks ahead, just where the ravine ended and the water widened out into the river and dropped atop it. Quickly sitting, he folded his legs and crossed his arms in a haughty pose. Moments later, Kakarot came clamoring down the wall of the ravine, hopping between ledges and landing on the bank across from him with a flip.

“Finally,” Vegeta said smugly “I was beginning to wonder if you got lost, you took so long.”

Kakarot tossed the red pole to the side and began disrobing.“The fish will still be here, watch this!” he said, turning and dipping his tail in the water.

Before Vegeta could object, to his horror, one of the huge creatures he’d caught on his first day awake rose towards the surface out of the river. Yanking his tail upwards at the last second, Kakarot spun around and kicked the monster so hard it flew across the river, smacking into Vegeta and knocking him backward.

“Watch what you’re doing, you clown!”

Kakarot fell down, laughing.“Ahh, Vegeta, it’s just a fish!”

“Yes, and it’s filthy! I don’t want this all over my clothes, you know!” Vegeta tossed the animal aside and stood. “Why didn’t you just jump in and fight it?”

Kakarot was already replacing his clothes. “Well ‘cause it’s a game!” He jumped across the river bank to where Vegeta stood. “C’mon, let’s go back to Grandpa’s house and cook this up, I’m starvin’!”

He grabbed the fish by the back tail and started walking along the path as Vegeta followed. As Gohan’s house came into sight, however, Vegeta’s ears picked up a distant roaring sound coming from the other end of the path.

“What kind of monster makes a noise like that?” Kakarot mused aloud.

Neither of them had a chance to speak further though, as what looked like an oversized ship of some sort came speeding at them at an alarming pace. Vegeta dodged out of the way and grabbed Kakarot by the arm, leaving their huge fish in the path as the strange ship screeched to a halt and hit it. A high pitched voice called out to them from the ship as it ground to a halt.

“Are you boys okay?”

A door opened on the side and out stepped the strangest looking person Vegeta had ever seen. He easily identified her as what must be a female Earth inhabitant, but she was so…soft and weak looking. Her hair was a color he’d only seen on alien flesh or scales, a vibrant lavender color that looked like the sea on a planet he’d once been to – and her eyes were a blue just as brilliant. Vegeta felt like his heart stopped beating and his blood rush.

_What is this feeling? Is this fear? Ridiculous, what a strange being. I am not afraid…but why do I feel like this?_

He wished for the familiarity of his scouter to assuage the thoughts, although he tried to convince himself it was only so he wouldn’t be taken by surprise by an enemy, and not because this strange female made him feel so unsettled.

Kakarot interrupted his train of thought. “Look, there’s a weird goblin coming out of that ship!”

“Goblin?” the human looked insulted. “I’m not a goblin, I’m a human and a girl! Girls are pretty, nothing like gross goblins.”

Kakarot still brandished the red pole as a weapon, taking what vaguely looked to Vegeta like a fighting stance.

He circled the human, poking at her with the pole.

“Are you sure _you’re_ a human?” she retorted.

Kakarot stuck his tongue out, “Of course not, I’m a-” he turned to Vegeta. “What are we called, Vegeta?”

Blushing to the roots of his hair, Vegeta tersely answered, “We’re Saiyans, Kakarot we’ve been over this.”

“Saiyans!” Kakarot announced proudly to the human as if this answered everything. He circled around her again, peering at her backside, suddenly lifting her skirt with the pole. She jumped back from him.

“What a pervert!” she glared at Vegeta, “Are all you _Saiyans_ this rude?”

“Humans don’t have tails?” Kakarot asked, seeming oblivious of her ire.

“Of course not, you idiot!” Vegeta scolded, smacking him across the back of the head, “No human has a tail like us Saiyans.” There was a hint of pride in his announcement.

The human gave them both strange looks, peering at them in a clear effort to look for their tails. Vegeta curled his tighter about his waist, the tip flicking in irritation. He heard what sounded like her stifling a laugh and narrowed his eyes.

“What is so amusing, human?”

“Just who do you think you’re fooling with that silly costume tail! Those are for children and you look _much_ too old to wear something like that. Come on now, you can’t be aliens! And it’s _Bulma_ not human.” she chided.

Vegeta scoffed but didn’t answer, her gaze unnerving him. He turned to look away from her in annoyance, his mind racing for a reply to her idiotic accusation, but none came.

“Did this ship trap you?” Kakarot asked, smacking her vehicle with the pole.

Bulma turned back and laughed. “No, it’s my car! It didn’t eat me!”

“This… _car_ hardly seems efficient flying so low to the ground. Wouldn’t a ship be much more efficient?” Vegeta asked.

_Maybe she could provide a vehicle for us once we are ready to leave the planet. Certainly, our pods are beyond repair._

Her laugh broke his thoughts. “It doesn’t fly, they’re meant to be on the ground. We have ships too though, especially in the city.”

“If you come to our house I’ll make you some food!” Kakarot announced cheerfully, grabbing their fish by the tail again.

“All right, but no funny business!” she wagged a finger at him.

“What’s funny business?” he asked.

“Mating, Kakarot!” Vegeta hissed at him, irritated.

“What’s mating?”

Vegeta flushed even redder and suddenly wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and Bulma. “Enough of your stupid questions, are we going to go eat or not? I’m not waiting for you I’m going back to the house!” He turned and lifted off the ground, flying straight towards Gohan’s home.

Bulma gasped, “You’re flying!”

“What of it?” He retorted.

“Hey Vegeta! Wait up!” Kakarot shouted after him.

“You can’t fly,” she protested, “it’s impossible!”

“Who are you to tell a Prince what he can and can not do?” he shot back over his shoulder.

“Are you coming, or not?” Kakarot asked, turning to Bulma.

“Oh! Right! Just a second.” She turned away from him, pressing a button on the car.

Kakarot watched in shock as it shrank down and disappeared with a loud _boom!_ and a puff of smoke. “How did you do that? Are you sure you’re not a goblin or a witch or something?”

“No, silly, it’s called a capsule! You can put anything in them! My dad made them and I helped, he’s super smart!” she said, pocketing the small capsule before following him towards Gohan’s house.

“So your name is Kakarot?” she asked as they walked.

“Yep, that’s me! And that’s my friend, Vegeta!”

She wrinkled her nose. “You mean the flying one, what kind of trick is that? And what’s his problem anyway?”

“Trick? It’s not a trick, he just does it. Grandpa said I can probably fly when I get older! Anyway, I think Vegeta just likes to be grouchy.”

Sighing with relief she asked, “Oh so you live with your Grandpa then?”

“No,” Kakarot answered, “he left a little while ago and I haven’t seen him since.”

* * *

_Bulma. So that’s this strange human’s name._

Vegeta stood by the fire he’d blasted to life outside as Kakarot and Bulma approached. “Kakarot, throw that on the fire, I’m starving. You, human girl. Bulma, was it? What are you doing way out here?”

“I’m collecting Dragon Balls!” she exclaimed excitedly, reaching into the pocket tied around her waist.

She pulled out two round, shiny orange balls with stars beneath the transparent surface.

“Hey Grandpa has one of those!” Kakarot exclaimed before bolting inside.

He emerged a moment later, carrying an almost identical ball. Bulma reached for it and he quickly pulled back.

“It’s special! Girls aren’t allowed to touch it!”

As he spoke, the two Dragon Balls Bulma held began to glow wildly, as did the one in Kakarot’s hands.

“It’s reacting to the energy from my Dragon Balls!” Bulma explained, “There are seven of them across the world, and if you gather them all together, you can summon a magic dragon that will grant you any wish you want! The legend says that someone became King once with them!”

_Any wish you want._

Vegeta’s mind spun with the possibilities.

_Vengeance. I could avenge them all, I could be powerful enough to defeat that wretch, Freiza!_

“Say, I could use help finding the rest of the Dragon Balls. You guys seem pretty strong, wanna come along with me to look for them?” She turned to Vegeta, “How about it, Your Grumpy Highness?”

“Tch. You’re so weak you wouldn’t last a day alone, I bet.”

Bulma scoffed, and, ignoring him, turned back to Kakarot. “There are big towns full of people, and you’ll probably even see some dinosaurs and monsters on our way! The next one is a little way to the south but we can probably make it all the way in one of my vehicles.”

“Lots of people and monsters! Maybe I’ll find someone to fight and I can train to be strong like Grandpa!” Kakarot said enthusiastically, “But you can’t have my Grandpa ball!”

“Why not?” Bulma pouted, “you aren’t even using it and besides, I need all seven so I can make a wish!”

Kakarot glared at her, tucking the ball protectively in his arm. Bulma gave him a sly look.

“What if I let you take a peek under my dress?” she asked, lifting the hem of her skirt several inches.

_What the hell kind of planet was this Earth?_

“Gross!” Kakarot scrunched his face up. “You don’t even have a tail, you probably look weird!”

Vegeta suddenly found himself feeling way too hot and way too curious at what a peek would be like.

_Control yourself! Who cares, anyway?_

“Kakarot just give her the damn ball. We’re going with her anyway and once she makes her wish you can just take it back home. Isn’t that right, _Bulma?”_ He leveled his gaze at her, forcing his eyes to remain on her face and not her still lifted clothes.

Bulma dropped her dress back down and made a triumphant noise as she held her hand out to Kakarot, who frowned at Vegeta.

“I’ll let you use it, but I get to carry it,” he said.

Bulma retracted her hand, rolling her eyes, “Fine. But don’t get any ideas about running off and leaving me! I need that ball! You can have it back as soon as I’m done, I promise.”

* * *

Vegeta and Kakarot destroyed the fish the minute it was cooked, Bulma declining and turning her nose up at the smell.

“How do you plan on finding these magic balls, anyway?” Vegeta asked her, kicking the last of the fire in.

“Oh, it’s easy, with this! I call it the Dragon Radar, I made it myself! I found the first ball in my dad’s study and used it to build the radar with one I figured out what it was. I’m basically the smartest person in the world.” She said, proudly showing off her radar.

Vegeta wanted to doubt her, but he’d seen her use a capsule she claimed to have had a hand in creating to make another vehicle appear out of thin air, just by throwing a little white object at the ground.

“If you’re quite done telling us how great your invention is, maybe we can leave and see if this thing actually works?”

She turned her nose up at him but pointed to the two-wheeled vehicle that came out of her capsule. “We’ll have to take this, we can’t walk that far, of course, it’s over 1200 kilometers away. The car I came in needs time to recharge.” Bulma straddled the seat of the vehicle and patted the space behind her. “Come on, get in!”

Kakarot approached cautiously but climbed on behind her.

“Now grab onto my waist, I can’t have you falling off!” she instructed.

Kakarot obliged, but Vegeta’s throat tightened. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d rather do anything than touch her. Just thinking about it made him feel strange all over again.

“I think I’ll sit on top,” he said, firmly, and without waiting for a response, hopped on top of the vehicle.

Bulma tossed her head. “Don’t blame me when you fall off!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a completely fan-made work and is not officially affiliated in any way with or endorsed by the Dragon Ball universe, franchise, films, manga, tv specials or games. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, Dragon Ball Super, and all associated franchises are the property of Akira Toriyama, Fuji TV, Toei Animation, Funimation, and their respective creators, writers, artists & publishers. Please support the official release.


	4. The Turtle Hermit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance encounter reveals a Dragon Ball.

Vegeta had to admit, Bulma’s Hoi Poi Capsules were _seriously_ useful. Given that he’d been sleeping in a goddamn tree for three months like some kind of animal, he was more than glad to finally be indoors at night. He watched as the capsule exploded into an enormous cloud of smoke, revealing a round house.

“Ahhh, I can’t wait to get inside and take a long hot bath!” Bulma stretched her arms over her head, coming up on her toes before opening the door. “This will have everything we need for the night, and tomorrow we can go for the other dragon ball. It’s towards the ocean.” She continued, tossing her bag onto the table in the middle of the room.

“All I want is food!” Kakarot interrupted, plopping down on the floor and crossing his legs. “I’m starvin’, Bulma!”

She pointed to a huge metal box in the corner. “That’s the refrigerator, it’s full of enough food for weeks. After we bathe I’ll make us something to eat.”

Vegeta glared at her, uncomfortable at the idea of undressing anywhere near this brazen woman who ran around exposing herself to people she had just met. Before he could voice his discomfort, she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him across the room.

“Are you mad, woman!” he dug his heels in at the doorway. “I am _not_ bathing with you.”

Bulma dropped his arm and put her fists on her hips. “As if I’d bathe with you! I _was_ going to show you where everything is, mister I’m-not-from-Earth, but fine by me, have fun figuring it out!”

She shoved him into the room and slammed the door.

_What the fuck._

Vegeta looked around the small room, seeing a large bathtub but no water and immediately regretting not letting her explain. He was too stubborn to go back out and ask for help, so he set about poking around the knobs and pipes that seemed to be attached, nearly jumping back when cold water began pouring out. He waited for it to fill and channeled a bit of ki, immediately causing the water to steam with heat. He stripped off his armor and clothes, cringing at the state of his breastplate and regretting that he didn’t have anything clean.

Maybe Bulma had some magic machine hidden away in one of those capsules that could clean his clothes, because he was filthy from chasing Kakarot that morning and sitting on top of her motorcycle all day long. He hurriedly sat in the water, determined to wash quickly and sleep to get away from Bulma and the unnerving feelings she gave him as soon as possible.

* * *

Kakarot woke up to the sun shining on his face, feeling warm and rested, but lonely. His sleep had been plagued by strange nightmares - some things he had seen when he tried to comfort Vegeta, and other scenes of people who seemed familiar. He had the urge to seek comfort, but wasn’t sure why. He sure missed Grandpa Gohan. The nightmares had persisted since the day he woke up in Gohan’s house, confused and awash with strange emotions. Gohan had sat on the edge of the bed while he slept to calm him, staring quietly off into the fire. He refused to tell Kakarot anything about his past, except that he had a friend who would return and explain everything.

Sitting up, Kakarot frowned. Vegeta hadn’t explained anything, but after yesterday he understood that they were truly alone here, possibly alone in the world. He’d seen their planet destroyed through Vegeta’s eyes and the surrealism was enough to make him push the secondhand memories away into the corners of his mind. He looked next to him where Vegeta was leaning back against the corner, arms crossed, head fallen to the side against the wall.

His stomach grumbled at him, and he remembered he hadn’t eaten since last night when Bulma scolded him for nearly cleaning out her food. Kakarot opened the frigid box she’d called a refrigerator and licked his lips in anticipation, pulling out a roasted bird. He sat on the floor, peering around the counter to make sure Bulma was still asleep before devouring the entire thing. A few trips back to the refrigerator, and he was finally full. He hid the plates in the back of the refrigerator and hoped she wouldn’t see them.

Patting his stomach contentedly, he eyed Bulma for a minute before deciding to crawl in bed with her. He climbed up carefully, stretching out on the bed that he sullenly noted was much more comfortable than the floor. There was plenty of room, he noticed, still wondering what she meant by having to be careful of him. He knew he was clumsy, but how much could he really hurt her in his sleep? He shifted carefully and frowned. She said she didn’t have a tail, and Vegeta argued that humans didn’t have tails, but what _did_ humans look like? Rolling over, he lifted the blanket and yelled in surprise.

* * *

Vegeta was on his feet in a flash, Kakarot’s yell snapping him awake. He looked in horror at the boy, kneeling by Bulma’s legs with her blanket in his hands. Bulma’s body jerked and in the second it took her to shift and rub her eyes, Vegeta closed the gap between the bed and himself, yanked Kakarot up by his clothes and stomped across the room. Muttering curses under his breath, Vegeta threw the door open and tossed Kakarot on the ground outside

“What are you doing!? She’s not a slave, Kakarot, we do not abuse people like that!” Vegeta hissed at him savagely.

“I wasn’t hurting her, Vegeta, I swear!” Kakarot protested.

Vegeta had heard disgusting stories from Nappa, stories he shouldn’t have as he listened when his father and Nappa drank together in the hall. They’d just punished a young warrior who’d been bragging about an alien he raped when he was off on one of Frieza’s slave acquisition missions, despite being ordered by King Vegeta to enlist in Frieza’s ranks only as a combat soldier. The Saiyans themselves had been enslaved by the Tuffles, and the King refused to sully his reign by repeating the practice, even with his subjects serving proxy. He had no choice but to allow Freiza to recruit; this was the best he could do.

Bulma’s irritated yell came from inside. “Do you always yell so loudly when you wake up?” she stood in the open door, hands on her hips.

Vegeta hoped she awoke only from the yelling, and that she hadn’t noticed what Kakarot was doing.

“A lady like me needs her beauty sleep, if you wanted to fight each other you could have waited till you got outside to start, ugh.” She rolled her eyes and huffed, slamming the door as she returned inside, not even waiting for a response.

Kakarot stood up, dusting himself off and frowning. “You’d have yelled too if you saw, she doesn’t have a tail!”

Blood rushed in Vegeta’s ears. Kakarot had never been bright, but his ignorance of other species and anyone different from himself was a whole other problem.

“That’s because she’s a goddamn human, I already told you that, don’t you listen? I don’t know why you’re so curious, but you are _never_ to repeat that behavior, _ever_ again. Earthlings are different from us, and even Saiyan women are different. Put it out of your mind and let’s train before I kick your ass for that little stunt back there.”

Kakarot rolled his eyes, still lost, but having no desire to get yelled at anymore. Vegeta huffed and raked his hands through his unruly hair, turning his attention to the landscape, searching for something to destroy. The desert was barren, almost devoid of signs of life; there were more rocks and sand than anything else. Hauling one out of the ground, he spun and hurled it through the air before leaping after it to shatter it with a kick.

“Vegeta lemme train with ya, I’ll throw them and you can dodge it’ll be fun!”

“Ha! You couldn’t hit me if you tried, Kakarot, I could dodge you in my sleep no matter what you throw.”

Kakarot grinned and reached for a stone of his own, easily three times the size of the one Vegeta had just lifted. Vegeta widened his stance, crouching as he smiled maliciously, his competitiveness overtaking his irritation as he braced himself. The rock came flying at his face, bursting into near powder as he sparked a ball of ki off his fingertips and launched it at the projectile.

“My turn.” Vegeta growled, matching Kakarot’s choice in size with his next stone.

Before he could throw it though, a cry erupted from it. Vegeta stared down in shock at the screaming rock, realizing it wasn’t a rock at all but some hard-shelled creature with floppy appendages. He quickly put the animal down, confused at his ignorance of earth’s life forms.

“We….thought you were a rock,” He muttered, avoiding its gaze.

“A rock?! I’m a turtle! My name is Kame.”

Kakarot howled with laughter. “Vegeta was gonna throw you, mister turtle! Man, are you lucky, I could have killed you by accident, whoops.” He sheepishly scratched his head, kneeling down to the turtle. “Sorry about that though, can we make it up to you?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have any saltwater would you?” Kame asked.

Kakarot stared at him. “Salt…water?”

Kame nodded. “I live in the ocean and there’s no salty water anywhere here, I’ve gotten lost from my friends, you see.”

Vegeta stared at him. “We’re nowhere near any water, how are you even alive this far away from it? How far away is it, anyway?”

Kame pointed in a direction but before he could answer Vegeta shot up off the ground in flight suddenly, rising so far he became a dot in the sky. Kakarot cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted after him.

“Hey, Vegeta, no fair flyin’ off like that without us! Where are you going, anyway?”

He turned to Kame and gave him an awkward look.

“Sorry about my friend, Vegeta just does that sometimes.”

“…flies?!” Kame gave Kakarot an astonished look but got only a grin in return. Vegeta landed back in front of them, his boots kicking up the dust.

“You, turtle, if you want our help getting all the way there you’ll have to talk to that obnoxious harpy we’re traveling with,” He rolled his eyes and nodded toward the house, then scowled at Kakarot the other boy shoved him.

“C’mon, Vegeta, don’t call her names just cause she doesn’t have a tail!”

Vegeta turned bright red and swung at Kakarot, missing by a hair as he jumped back away from him.

“It is _not_ a name, it is a _fact._ She’s obnoxious and annoying; we’ve been out here training and she’s no doubt in there wasting more time doing who knows what.”

As if on cue, Bulma came out of the house, shouting their names, “Vegeta, Kakarot, where are you? We have to get going so we can find the next Dragon Ball!”

Kakarot grabbed Kame again and hoisted him up onto his shoulder before trotting over to Bulma. “Bulma, this is Kame, he says he’s lost and needs help finding saltwater. We gotta help him! He lives in the ocean but Vegeta says it’s really far away.”

Bulma peered at Vegeta as he approached, his arms crossed in his usual grumpy stance. “How do you know where the ocean is?” she asked, suspiciously, “Were you pawing through my things and looking at the map?”

Vegeta snorted. “No, you idiot, I flew high enough to see further than I could on the ground.”

She blushed and stuck her tongue out at him before addressing Kame, “I don’t mind if you come with us, but Kakarot or Vegeta will have to carry you. I don’t have a big enough vehicle to fit you. Besides, a trip to the beach sounds nice!”

Kakarot hoisted Kame further over his head, extending his arms and eliciting a worried yell from the giant turtle. “Don’t worry, Bulma, I got him, I’m super strong!”

She winked and gave him a thumbs-up before pushing the button on the side of the house to revert it to capsule form. Picking it up, she placed it back in the case and removed the motorcycle again, tossing it out to pop up.

“Hey, I thought we were looking for your Dragon Balls, not running errands for some turtle. I could probably just throw him to the ocean if I fly up high again.” Vegeta complained.

Kakarot scowled at him and Kame tucked himself inside his shell.

“Leave him alone, Vegeta, it’s not that big of a deal.” Bulma scolded him, “Besides,” she continued, pulling out the Dragon Radar and giving it a click, “the next Dragon Ball is in the direction of the ocean anyway.”

“Tch, whatever, but I’m not getting in that ridiculous vehicle with you.”

Vegeta flew the short few meters to the motorcycle and sat on top of it the way he had the day before. Bulma simply rolled her eyes at him but climbed into the seat anyway. “Come on, Kakarot, if you’ve got Kame, let’s go!”

* * *

Bulma lay lazily in the sand, waving absentmindedly at Vegeta as he paced in annoyance. “Kame said he’ll come back, I’m sure it’s only a little longer, now.”

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. “I know how to watch the sun pass. We should be out, looking for these other….dragon’s balls.”

She pulled her hand back to her face and peered at him, the trace of a mocking smile hidden in the shadow of her palm. “Why are you in such a hurry? I have all summer to find the Dragon Balls, and besides, I’m the one using them, not you.”

He opened his mouth to argue with her, but thought better of it. Best she did not know he planned to make a wish before she had a chance to waste it on some nonsense. Turning back to look at the water, he peered off into the distance once again - but this time there was something there. He focused his eyes and was both annoyed and relieved to see that damned turtle speeding along through the water towards them - with a strange man on his back. He turned around to see Kakarot, who was passed out in the shade of a tree, snoring loudly and producing bubbles.

Leaning over his sleeping companion, Vegeta jabbed him in the ribs with his boot. “Kakarot, wake up, that lousy Kame is coming back.”

Kakarot yawned lazily, stretching as he sat up.

Bulma looked out at the water. “Are you sure? I don’t see anything out there.”

Kakarot stared at her, confused, and pointed at the horizon. “He’s right there.”

Vegeta grinned at her. “So not only can we fly, but we can see better than you puny Earthlings too?”

Bulma stuck her nose up at him as Kame came flying towards the shore, water arcing away from his sides. The bald old man on his back was crouched as if imitating a surfer, a ridiculously long beard trailing behind him and the largest pair of sunglasses Bulma had ever seen balanced on his nose. He hopped off as Kame touched the sand, giving his cane a flourish and bowing at Bulma.

“My, my, Kame didn’t tell me that it was a beautiful young woman who helped him out.”

She blushed, and Kame spluttered in the background, protesting about her threats to leave him in the desert.

Kakarot stepped up to him, beaming with pride. “I carried Kame the whole way!”

The old man looked at him skeptically over his sunglasses. “That’s quite a long way away, young man. Are you sure you aren’t telling tales?”

Kakarot frowned at him and held up a fist. “Grandpa said I shouldn’t do that ‘cause it’s not polite.”

 _“_ What’s your name, old-timer?” Vegeta shot.

The old man drew himself up and held out his staff. “I’m the Turtle Hermit, Master Roshi! I’m fabled throughout the land as a great martial artist. I’ve even won the Tenkaichi tournament, you know. I haven’t taken a student in many, many years though.” He looked closer at Kakarot. “Anyway, Kame here told me how much you helped him find his way, so I wanted to give you this. It’s a special item I acquired many many years ago.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bright shining ball, handing it to Kakarot.

“Hey!” Kakarot exclaimed, “You have a Dragon ball too!” He grabbed it hastily and pulled his own out of its pouch at his waist.

Bulma gasped and leaned over his shoulder to get a better look. “It’s a real Dragon Ball!” She produced her own and her eyes widened as the four balls began to pulse and glow together.

Roshi scratched his head. “Well I’ll be, I had no idea there were more of those. I thought the Dragon Balls were just a legend.”

Kakarot pulled back from him.

“No take backs, it’s rude!” Bulma protested. “Besides, I’m going to collect the Dragon Balls myself.”

“Oh, I suppose you’re right, after all, I’m too old to go chasing these down.” He waved his hand at her and turned his attention back to Kakarot. “Now then, young man, let me give you something else. It might help you find them faster.”

He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted at the sky, “Kinto Un!” A bright yellow cloud flew through the air to land in front of them. “This, is the Kinto Un, it’s said that those who are pure of heart can ride it. It will take you wherever you want to go.”

Kakarot’s eyes widened. “Ya mean it, it’s for me!?” He hopped onto it immediately, eliciting an eye roll from Vegeta, who had been watching the whole exchange with suspicion and disinterest. Bulma turned to him. “See, now there’s room for you to sit on the motorbike with me.” she winked at him. “Now Kakarot can just ride his ah…” she stopped to giggle “sweet potato, and we can share a seat so you aren’t getting filthy again and hogging my bathtub later.”

Vegeta flushed red to the roots of his hair and glared at her.

She smirked before putting her Dragon Ball back and taking out the radar. “There’s another one not too far from here.” she said, starting towards the motorcycle.

Kakarot followed her on Kinto Un, waving behind to Roshi. “Bye, Old-timer! I’ll be back to visit after I collect all the Dragon Balls!”

Bulma sat in the seat and patted the space behind her, watching Vegeta sulkily come over and sit down - as far back away from her as possible, she noted, rolling her eyes. The engine roared to life and she threw her hand up to Roshi in a wave as they sped away from the beach towards the next Dragon Ball.

* * *

Within a few hours, they neared the next spot on the radar. Smoke filled the sky front of them, spreading through the air in the breeze. What was left of a village came into view just over the hill, destroyed buildings and burning rubble scattered about. An enormous pig-like monster was stomping around, digging through the remains of the houses. Bulma shrieked in horror and braked, hard, throwing Vegeta into her back and knocking them both out of the seat.

“Ow!” she cried, tumbling to the ground and shoving him off of her.

Kakarot hopped off the Kinto Un and pulled his pole from its strap on his back. “Vegeta, look! A monster, let’s go fight it!”

The pig was still oblivious to their presence as he continues his search. “Where is it!?” he roared, tossing a particularly large chunk of debris their way.

“Hey, screw you!” Vegeta protested, standing and rubbing his backside, “What’s the big idea anyway?”

“Shut up!” Bulma hissed at him, “He must be looking for the Dragon Ball too!”

Vegeta scoffed, “Come on, Kakarot, let’s go teach this asshole a lesson.”

By then, the pig had turned to them. “Get away from here, you kids, unless you want to feel the wrath of the great and powerful Oolong! I’ll crush you faster than this pathetic village!”

Vegeta launched himself into the air as Kakarot lunged toward the monster, pole outstretched, and slammed it across his legs. Howling, in pain, Oolong stumbled backward, transforming into a huge horned bull. Kakarot struck again with the pole, unfazed by the transformation, but Oolong knocked it out of his hands with his horns.

Kakarot grinned at him. “Now the fun’s really gonna start!”

Oolong snorted and stamped the ground beneath him, completely ignoring Vegeta in the air above him. Vegeta focused and drew his ki, taking advantage of the beast’s distraction to prepare an attack. As Oolong lunged forward, Kakarot grabbed the creature by the horns. He was pushed back several feet before he dug his heels in, with all his might, struggled to hold it still. Vegeta aimed his hands straight down and fired.

“Galick gun, FIRE!” he shouted.

Bulma looked on, her mouth agape as a huge bolt of fiery purple lighting erupted from Vegeta’s hands and raced towards the ground. The earth shook as the blast landed. Horrified, her eyes followed Vegeta as he flew backward from his attack and watched him fall right out of the sky.

_What in Kami’s name did I just see?_

She turned her attention back to where Kakarot, who was still standing, looking confused and covered in soot, holding the horns of the now-dead Oolong.

“Vegeta!” he called out, getting a groan in response. “You almost didn’t leave enough to eat!”

Bulma held her nose at the strong stench of ozone and burnt flesh. “You’re going to EAT that thing?!”

Vegeta’s flame-haired head rose up from the grass a little ways from her and he rose shakily to his feet. “Of course we’re going to eat it, we’d starve if we kept trying to eat what you gave us.”

He limped over to the dead animal and plopped down next to Kakarot. Before she could object, they each ripped off a leg bigger than themselves and bit into the raw meat with savage enthusiasm.

_Who am I traveling with and what have I gotten myself into?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a completely fan-made work and is not officially affiliated in any way with or endorsed by the Dragon Ball universe, franchise, films, manga, tv specials or games. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, Dragon Ball Super, and all associated franchises are the property of Akira Toriyama, Fuji TV, Toei Animation, Funimation, and their respective creators, writers, artists & publishers. Please support the official release.


	5. Bit By Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta gets a taste of gentleness.

Vegeta sat away from the campfire, lazily chewing a piece of Oolong and staring up at the sky. The stars were completely different on every planet he’d ever been on, but Earth’s were a different color. Heavy industrial machinery and extraction factories polluted the sky on Planet Vegeta, and he’d been shocked the first time he had gone to Arlia to see a night sky with not only two moons, but a host of brilliant purple and green lights scattered across the vast emptiness. Of course, Nappa had ruined it, refusing to wait until morning to fight and instead transforming beneath the moons to raze the planet to rubble. Earth had white stars, though, and tiny ones at that.

Bulma sat across the fire from him, an exhausted Kakarot passed out on the ground leaning against her leg. It had only been a few days, but she had to admit they were the most exciting days she’d had in a long time, even if her traveling companions were strange. Her father had been to alien planets before, so of course, she knew of alien life, but he had never mentioned meeting any so…human looking. She glanced over at Vegeta, who had separated himself as soon as she sat down. Her nose reflexively curled as he took another huge bite of that beast he and Kakarot had killed earlier.

 _How can he eat that?_ She thought to herself.

She would much rather be inside, but she didn’t have the heart to move Kakarot. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she had caught both boys staring off in the distance forlornly. Whenever their roughhousing subsided there were moments when she glimpsed intense pain in both their eyes. Kakarot mumbled something in his sleep, and she gently patted his head. Sparks snapped as the fire settled its growing pile of embers, soft tendrils of smoke trickling across the ground from the coals that spit to the ground nearby.

Unseen, an observer sat at the edge of the firelight’s reach, drawn by the smell of roasting meat. The sweet scent hung heavy on the air, rolling with curls of steam in the gentle wind. The figure shifted in the thick brush and scrub, glancing between the two awake companions before silently moving towards Vegeta, alone in the inky dark. Minutes stretched eternally, the night silent apart from the wood snapping and cracking, and a few insects calling nearby. Waiting until the moment his target turned their head, the predator rushed forward like the wind, leaping silently through the air to slam into Vegeta, tumbling across the ground. Dust flew up around them in a cloud.

Bulma screamed in panic at the sudden flurry of motion, kicking Kakarot in the ribs by accident as she leaped up and eliciting a surprised yell from him. Vegeta grunted as his attacker landed a blow square on his jaw, another across his forehead. The hand pulled back again, but Vegeta caught his wrist deftly in his hand.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Vegeta drawled.

* * *

Yamcha awoke, dazed and confused, to the sound of voices.

_What had just happened?_

Brief images came to his mind. Meat. Fire. Being thrown. He tried to open his eyes and winced at the light of the fire. His head was spinning. The talking figures blurred, and his depth perception distorted, bringing them nearer, then further.

“Oh, so we just kill him now? We don’t even know who he is!” the girl said, contempt thick on her words.

Yamcha recognized the voice that answered from his fight.

“Oh, _we_ can’t kill someone? Then I’ll be the one to do it. He’s ambushed us, and who knows if he has companions nearby waiting.”

A third voice came from the other boy as Yamcha’s vision focused, but the pounding in his head was immense.

“I think we should listen to Bulma, Vegeta. At least until we figure out WHY he attacked us.”

Yamcha squinted, trying to focus on the blurry figures. He shook his head and felt a surge of concern on the edge of his mind.

_Sumai!_

He gently probed back in response, sending thoughts of calm and control. Yamcha could feel her nearby, out of sight and earshot, the bond between them pulsing with her volatile energy. The figures suddenly turned towards him, tensing.

“You move and you’re done for,” the one called Vegeta said, menacingly, as the girl raised her pistol in one hand towards him.

_Gotta stall so I can get away…I need to bluff…_

Yamcha scoffed, fighting the urge to crush his palms into his eyes and quiet the deafening ringing in his head. Ignoring Vegeta’s menacing tone, he leaned away from the tree they left him against and drew his feet up, wincing reluctantly.

“You can’t stop Wolf King Yamcha, the great and powerful demon of this forest! Especially not when all my men arrive.”

“All right, I stuck up for you, asshole, don’t go ruinin’ it by pissing Vegeta off,” said the boy who had knocked him unconscious.

Strangely enough, the boy had a tail, which lay wrapped snugly around his waist, the tip bristling in irritation. Yamcha slid his eyes to the other boy and noted he also had a tail. Dread crept into his mind and he hid it from Sumai.

_I never should have picked this camp! How could I not see the tails? So stupid…_

Yamcha’s heart raced, the uncertainly over his target’s identity growing with his thoughts. The girl, Bulma, slowly stalked over to him, waving her free hand at her companions. Her eyes, and more intimidatingly, her gun, didn’t waver.

“You might think you’re a badass, stomping around interrupting people’s dinners, but you attacked my friend and now, you owe us an explanation. Or, your life. Vegeta here thinks we should just off you, so why don’t you give me and Kakarot a reason to stop him? Unless you really were here to kill us all along.”

Before Yamcha could open his mouth to answer, he felt Sumai’s panic. He tried to send her his hesitation, but it was too late, and she crashed through the undergrowth, stepping into the light of the campfire.

“Give it up, Yamcha. You can’t win this, they’re too strong, and there’s too many of them,” she said, her words hurried and breathless.

* * *

The girl walked closer, the firelight dancing on her shadowy figure as more of her came into view. Pale, slender arms rose above her head to pull back the rich purple hood of her cloak. Fire red hair was tied back and hung over her shoulder, a thin purple veil covered the lower half of her face. She unlatched a fine gold chain and let the veil fall, her pants whispering as she stepped. Vegeta had snapped to attention as soon as the girl had moved on the camp but stopped moving as Bulma turned to face her.

“He’s all talk, Yamcha would never kill anyone.” She continued her hurried speech, sparing a moment to glare at her cornered friend.

“He’s not a king, he’s not even a bandit. And there’s no one else here but me.”

Vegeta tensed, listening to her speak.

_I’ve never felt this kind of energy before…who is she?_

The girl’s gray eyes met him and he narrowed his gaze. There was something about her very presence that put him off. As if there was something more to her physical body that he couldn’t perceive.

“Tch, you think we’re going to let you go, just like that?” Vegeta snapped at her.

Yamcha stood up, his face darkening even further with obvious embarrassment.

Kakarot interrupted them all, walking calmly over to the girl. He had to look slightly up at her to meet her gaze.

“You didn’t answer Bulma’s question. Why should we let you go? Your friend tried to hurt my friend.”

Yamcha bit his lip, his voice sounding miserable. “We’re not bandits, we just…I was looking for food.”

There was a stunned silence. Vegeta turned and stared at Yamcha, who had turned completely scarlet and balled his fists at his side, his face downcast.

“Did you really think you could kill me, manage kill _both of us_ and take our food?” Vegeta asked.

“I wasn’t trying to kill you,” Yamcha said meekly “I just wanted to knock you unconscious. I can take care of myself but…food is scarce in these woods. When I saw how much meat was there…” Yamcha trailed off. “Look, I’m just trying to take care of Sumai.”

Vegeta shook his head and Bulma finally lowered her gun, placing it back at her hip.

“You could have just asked if you were hungry, you didn’t have to attack Vegeta like that. Come inside, and I’ll bring you better than that greasy, roasted atrocity. And you can tell us how you wound up here. Follow me.”

She waved gently at them and turned away from the fire. Kakarot stared after the two strangers as they followed Bulma into the capsule house.

“They sure are dressed weird, ain’t they Vegeta?” he whispered.

Vegeta took in Yamcha’s drab outfit – odd, dust-colored pants with a tunic the color of fir needles and half-dead leaves – and shook his head.

“That man would blend into the environment here. The girl is even stranger in those fine robes. They don’t look suited for travel. What is she doing out here? They aren’t a threat to us. Bet we should keep an eye on them.” he nudged Kakarot. “And hey, the game is on.” Vegeta shut the door behind him and followed Kakarot to the space adjoining the kitchen.

“Much better in here!” Bulma said, gesturing for Sumai and Yamcha to sit, “I think the smell was starting to make me sick. I’m not sure what you guys like, so I’ll just bring out a bit of everything.”

She stepped over to a cabinet in the kitchen and pulled out a rack of capsules, fingering a few and muttering to herself before selecting one.

Kakarot nudged Vegeta. “I go first this time,” he said. I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.”

Vegeta chuckled at him, “You say that every time we play, and you still haven’t won.” He held his hands a foot apart from each other and gave Kakarot a smug grin. “You’ll never beat my speed.”

Kakarot held one hand in the air above Vegeta’s, ready to chop. The brief moment that passed felt like an eternity. His eyes never left Vegeta’s.

_He thinks he’s so fast…I’ll show him…Wait for it…now!_

A clap emanated as Kakarot’s hand was firmly trapped between Vegeta’s. A moment of stunned silence took him before groaning in frustration. Bulma rolled her eyes at them and turned to toss a tiny capsule onto the table.

Vegeta snickered in Yamcha’s direction when he noticed him watching. “Care to try?” he taunted.

Yamcha shook his head quickly, immediately more interested in the food that appeared from Bulma’s tiny bottle. He swallowed as the smells hit him. Thick fluffy buns lay piled high next to large wedges of cheese, and a bowl of fragrant, ripe fruit. The sweet, sharp scent of pickled vegetables filled the air, mingling with the steam pouring off of an entire roasted bird.

“No, this isn’t for you,” said Bulma when she noticed both Saiyans eying the food. “Maybe if you hadn’t insisted on eating gross monster meat, I’d share. You’re lucky I packed extra food.” Bulma continued as their guests dug in eagerly. “Those monkey tailed goons almost emptied the kitchen by themselves. I only bring so many capsules with me.”

Sumai spoke around a mouthful of a bun, “I’ve never seen any magic like this - these little bottles – who taught you spell work?”

Bulma furrowed her brow. “Spells? They’re not spells, it’s called a Hoi Poi Capsule. Depending on their grade, they can store any number of things. My father makes them.”

“Your father is a witch?”

Bulma stared at her, flabbergasted. “A…witch? Like with a crystal ball, and a pointy black hat?”

Sumai nodded, her mouth full of pickled radish. A drop of sauce escaped her mouth and she licked her lips in satisfaction. “My mother is a witch – “ she said, wrinkling her nose, “but she doesn’t use it to do anything like this. She’s so boring and old fashioned. Never wants to try anything new.” Rolling her eyes, she resumed eating.

“Don’t like witches. Don’t like curses,” Kakarot said flatly. It was clear he was only half-listening to the conversation, his eyes locked onto Vegeta’s face.

“No, he’s not a witch,” Bulma continued, “just a very talented scientist. I take after him, too. I made this capsule house to my own design.”

Yamcha looked around the expansive space slowly. “So this whole place came out of one of those things you threw on the table too? How much can you fit in one of those?”

“Really an entire spaceship if we wanted. As I said, they’re graded by what they can hold. Of course, it’s usually just not practical to put such huge things in capsules. They don’t make things appear from thin air. I have to produce something to shrink first. Plus, who needs to carry around a full-size house anyway?”

Sumai suddenly reached in her bundled cloak and handed something to Yamcha. Bulma couldn’t quite see.

“I had almost forgotten, you left your hat back at camp. I thought I would bring it when I went looking for you, in case something had happened.”

Yamcha put down a large chunk of meat and took the hat gently from her, dusting it off and giving Bulma a better look. It was bright blue, quite dirty, and looked like it was made of fur. Kakarot looked away, curious, and Vegeta seized the moment, slapping him in the face

“Pay attention.” He teased.

“Yamcha…what on earth is that thing? A cat?!” Bulma exclaimed.

He smiled softly as he put it on his head. It was a neatly fitting cap with what was clearly the animal’s tail hanging down to his back.

“He was my only friend as a child, and when he died, I couldn’t bear to let him go. I wanted to keep him with me forever, so I made him into a hat. I left him back at our camp because I don’t like to risk losing him.”

Her eyes softened. “That must have been hard, but that’s so sweet of you.”

Yamcha cleared his throat of emotion and tried to look bright. “So, what are you doing out in these woods, anyway? It’s pretty desolate. I mean, there are no villages for miles, and nothing to see but trees and dirt.”

Bulma wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and leaned forward excitedly. “I’ve been looking for these things called Dragon Balls…” she looked towards the Saiyans as she continued. They hadn’t turned away from their game.

“I nearly ran over these two in the road, and it turned out they had one with them. I have five now, there’s only two more to collect. We planned to set out in the morning, the next two are quite far apart.”

“Dragon…Balls…” Sumai murmured, her brow furrowing in thought.

“Aren’t those used to summon the magical dragon, Shenlong, and grant you a wish?” she asked.

Yamcha tried to swallow and nearly choked. “I’m sorry, grant a what now?”

Bulma’s lips parted involuntarily in surprise and her brow furrowed in suspicion at Sumai.

“How do you know about them? The only information I could find on them came from an old book in one of my dad’s warehouses, and none of the experts I consulted could tell me where the book could have come from.”

The shift in the conversation caught Vegeta’s ear, giving Kakarot an opening to slap Vegeta across the face in return.

Bulma threw a napkin at them. “Anyway, Sumai, what were you saying?”

Sumai twisted her hands together in her lap, blushing. As if for support, she slid a bit closer to Yamcha on the bench.

“I actually heard about them from my mother. She’s always collecting odd things from who knows where. Old books, strange statues and carvings, rocks, bones, you name it.”

Irritation singed Sumai’s words and she looked at her lap, annoyance playing on her features.

Vegeta made a failed attempt to stifle a laugh. “You humans are obsessed with _things.”_ His voice dripped with disdain and he grinned coldly, pointing to Bulma. “Half a moon with this one, and if there’s one thing I learned it’s that you all value your things more than anyone else.”

Bulma rolled her eyes and waved dismissively in Vegeta’s direction before turning back to Sumai. “Don’t mind half-pint asshole, over there.” She grinned and loudly whispered conspiratorially to Sumai. “He’s just making a big speech about the pointlessness of material belongings because that’s his only set of clothes.”

Yamcha nearly spat out his tea and Kakarot pointed and laughed at Vegeta. “Hey Vegeta, there’s a hole under your arm.”

Vegeta’s face turned beet red as he turned on Kakarot and yelled “Who are you to talk? Your clothes are in shreds too!”

“Yeah, but I don’t care,” said Kakarot with a chuckle. He held up his arm to expose a hole in the side and grinned.

“Whatever,” Vegeta said, walking further past Kakarot into the living room. “I’ll leave you to your clown show.”

He sat down heavily on the pile of cushions spread out on the floor that he’d taken to sleeping on since joining Bulma. A small wire rack sat on the floor next to him, stacked neatly with colorful glossy books, _magazines_ , she’d called them. Usually, she just read through pictures of human women in what looked like draperies, but the day before she had one open on the table with all sorts of weapons. Vegeta plucked it familiarly from the rack and flipped it open.

_Red Ribbon Corporation: Quarterly Catalog_

Vegeta had immediately recognized weapons and battle armor, temporary enhancement serums, and healing pads for covering and dressing wounds; they weren’t that much different than the variety of gear he’d encountered while running that blasted Freiza’s errands halfway across the galaxy and back. It gave him an ache in his chest, though, one he kept shoving back down. His hands tightened their grip on the catalog and he tried to quietly clear his throat. He remembered one of his training exercises on Freiza’s ship when he insisted that he be allowed to go on solo missions. He was six years old and had snuck onto his father’s ship, bound for a meeting with Freiza to receive orders.

_From his position in the rear of the corridor, Vegeta could see his proud, noble father…kneeling with his head down to the back of the most powerful being Vegeta had ever seen. Freiza. Leader of the Freiza Force, formerly the Cooler Force before he killed his own brother to take the title as his own. The room was plain enough. Large and round, the only feature was the far wall, which was entirely glass._ _Zarbon_ _and_ _Dodoria_ _, Freiza’s hand-picked goons, stood on either side of the room. Incredibly powerful warriors in their own rights, they held no official position, so Vegeta could ignore them. They were beneath him._

_“So tell me, King Vegeta, you’ve heard my demands. Do you have any of me? Or did our last meeting help you remember your place?”_ _Freiza_ _never turned to face the man kneeling behind him, but in the glass, he noticed Vegeta step into view._

_“I have a demand,” he hesitated just a moment, “Lord_ _Freiza_ _.”_

_“Oh? Do you now?”_

_The frost demon’s voice was encased in what sounded like genuine curiosity, but the sadistic malice behind it bled through just as the chill in the room invaded Vegeta. He had always felt cold around_ _Freiza_ _, but Vegeta held his head high and desperately held his concentration on making eye contact with his monstrous employer while walking forward to kneel at his father’s side._

_“My Lord Freiza, please, I beg you to-” King Vegeta stopped speaking as soon as Freiza lifted his hand and turned to face the pair of Saiyans._

_The lizard-like tail flicked with interest, and he said nothing as he paced around his subjects. An eternity seemed to pass in the brief moment of silence._

_“I think we should see what the little monkey wants, don’t you think?”_

_Freiza_ _slowly curled his tail around Vegeta’s throat, forcing his chin up to meet the frost demon’s penetrating gaze._

_“I want to be sent on my own missions,” Vegeta said through gritted teeth._

_It was all he could do to keep them from chattering with the bone-chilling cold of_ _Frieza_ _’s touch._

_“Ha! A little brat like you? If you’re so confident, surely you don’t mind showing us what you think you’re capable of? I think we have some, what did you call them_ _Zarbon_ _? The little green things you said could replace the Saiyans.”_

_“The_ _Saibamen_ _, my lord?”_ _Zarbon_ _’s oily voice made Vegeta’s skin crawl._

_“Yes, the_ _Saibamen_ _,” said_ _Freiza_ _, lifting the boy off his feet to truly meet his eyes. His words dripped with malice._

_“Would you like to show your daddy how big and strong you are? Or are you just eager to join my_ _Freiza_ _Force? Hm? Cat got your tongue? Come along ‘king’ Vegeta. Let’s see what your boy is made of.”_

_Freiza_ _dropped him unceremoniously to the floor with a crash and Vegeta gasped for breath. The frost demon walked past without pausing to see if anyone followed._

_Disappointment and embarrassment bled through the bond, and Vegeta couldn’t bear to look his father in the eye. The king did not offer to help him. Only waited for him to follow_ _Freiza_ _. The Saiyans followed down the corridor, trailed closely by_ _Zarbon_ _and_ _Dodoria_ _. He led them down the maze of hallways and placed his massive forked hand against a scanner outside a door labeled “RESTRICTED LEVEL 6 ACCESS”. It slid open with a hiss, and two battle technicians in lab coats turned in their chairs to see the newcomers._

_Springing to their feet, and kneeling to receive their visitors, the shorter, frog faced technician spoke up. “Ah, Lord_ _Freiza_ _, you’ve arrived. May I assume you would like to watch the combat trials of another batch of_ _Saibamen_ _? We’re making them stronger by the day!”_

_Freiza_ _waved his hand dismissively and stepped to the side to reveal both father and son standing in the doorway._

_“I think I’ll try something a little less boring than obstacle courses and set targets. Let’s see what this little monkey can do.”_

_Both technicians laughed, and Vegeta heard them placing bets on his survival time as he entered the chamber with the_ _Saibamen_ _and heard the door shut behind him._

His reminiscing was interrupted by the noise coming through the doorway from the kitchen. Yamcha and Sumai stood, stretching comfortably and watching mesmerized as Bulma pressed a button on the wall and turned the dining table into a set of bunk beds. Bulma was bustling about, bringing out blankets and other things from various cabinets and capsules before handing them to Sumai and Yamcha. Her voice was low but soothing, and Vegeta found himself straining to catch her words. Kakarot interrupted his concentration just then, flopped down on the cushions and laid back, resting his head on his hands.

“Do ya really think they’re gonna be ok to just let sleep here tonight?” he asked, his voice low and worried.

“Kakarot, you and I both know we’ll wake to the slightest sound. If they’re up to anything sinister…we’ll catch them in the act.”

Bulma leaned her head into the room to peer at them. “No starting fights in the middle of the night or you can go back to sleeping on those logs outside,” she warned, tossing them another blanket.

Vegeta watched her turn and retreat, then forced his gaze away from her backside. Staring stoically at the wall, he tracked her peripherally until she disappeared behind the kitchen wall. Kakarot was oblivious to Vegeta’s fixation as he burrowed into the cushions and lazily covered himself. Vegeta quietly arranged his own spot, listening for the telltale sound of Bulma’s evening routine. He closed his eyes and waited for the splash of bathwater, the click of the lights, and his favorite part.

Her lilting voice came from the bathroom, so faint he knew no one else would hear it now that Kakarot was passed out like a baby.

_Bit by bit I’m falling under your spell…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a completely fan-made work and is not officially affiliated in any way with or endorsed by the Dragon Ball universe, franchise, films, manga, tv specials or games. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, Dragon Ball Super, and all associated franchises are the property of Akira Toriyama, Fuji TV, Toei Animation, Funimation, and their respective creators, writers, artists & publishers. Please support the official release.


	6. A Friendly Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta and Kakarot find an unlikely acquaintance in their new ally.

The sun had not yet risen when Vegeta snapped awake, his eyes instantly sharpening to survey the room around him as he quickly sat up. Ever since they landed on Earth, he had woken up like this - sweating bullets, on high alert, his blood roaring in his ears like an Oozaru transformation. He looked around the room, counting sleeping forms and trying to forcibly uncurl his fists from their death grip on the blanket. His eyes lingered over the dim hallway where Yamcha and Sumai were sleeping.

The cool air from Bulma’s fan drifted across the room, cooling his damp skin and offering relief. Vegeta tossed back the blanket and crawled out of the furnace his body had made, feeling around in the gray light for his clothes. His fingers touched the rough fabric, reminding him of how different things were now that he was here.

How he missed the durable, fitted fabric of his Saiyan garb; the gi Gohan had gifted him had been torn in so many places. Bulma had finally covered it in patches, after browbeating him earlier that day into letting her take his clothes while he bathed. The fight with Oolong had threatened to do it in, and she had wound up taking the whole thing apart and stitching it back together. He couldn’t figure out why she was being so damn nice - after all, he and Kakarot were literal strangers, and aliens to boot.

Sighing, Vegeta crouched, rocking back on his heels and elbowing Kakarot, who was still sleeping like a rock. Kakarot sat up sleepily, rubbing his eyes and grunting. In that brief second, Vegeta felt a flash of envy at his friend - waking up so nonchalantly.

“The sun will be up soon,” he said gruffly, “and we need to find something for breakfast. Otherwise, Bulma will be shoving fruit at us again.”

Kakarot scowled and stuck out his tongue, “Yuck, too sweet. I don’t know why she does, anyway, she just complains we eat too much.”

Vegeta pulled his gi on over his shorts, throwing Kakarot’s clothes at him.

“Let’s go, and quiet. If you wake her, breakfast will be the least of our worries, and I’m not taking the blame for you this time.”

Kakarot’s head popped through his gi, grinning hopefully.

“You’re gonna train with me, too, right Vegeta?”

Vegeta grunted and huffed, but said nothing as he rolled up their beds. He pulled on his gloves, jerking his head toward the door and motioning for Kakarot to follow. They crossed the room silently before slipping out the front door into the first rays of sunrise. Fire red light split across the horizon, the sun a flaming golden ball in the center surrounded by streaks of pink separating wispy clouds. The bright blue sky, promising a relentlessly sunny day, peeked over the fluffy masses in a brilliant jewel hue. Kakarot put his hand up to his eyes, shielding them from the glittering beams that were rapidly rising above the tops of the trees.

The capsule house door opened then, and they both turned, surprised to see Yamcha coming outside. He’d left off most of his drab outfit from the night before, and was clad now only in his loose dust-colored pants, and boots. He stretched, then, walking towards them with a friendly – if a little awkward – smile pasted on his face.

“Hey there Yamcha!” Kakarot waved to him enthusiastically.

Yamcha had felt the two Saiyans eyes on him the entire evening prior, giving him a sense of unease. He kicked himself mentally for his mistake, knowing full well it would be a long time before either of them trusted him. He aimed to make up for it though, resolving to try and befriend his new companions, at least for Sumai’s sake.

“I thought I heard you stir, figured I would come to see what was going on so early,” he began.

Vegeta snorted, crossing his arms over his chest, “Why? Did you decide Kakarot here and I would make easier targets the second time around?”

Yamcha reddened, protesting, and Kakarot frowned before turning to Vegeta.

“Aw, c’mon Vegeta, don’t be like that,” he looked back at Yamcha mischievously, “Why don’t we train together anyway, I’ll give you a second chance. This time just you ‘n me.”

A look of surprise crossed Yamcha’s face for an instant, then passed as he smiled and nodded.

“Have you no pride?” Vegeta demanded, “How can you come crawling back, begging for another fight when we beat you?”

Yamacha’s expression hardened, “True pride is being able to hold your head up even after a loss. One defeat does not define me.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes, walking a few paces away to sit on a rock.

_This is nonsense._

He thought to himself, watching Kakarot and Yamcha.

But his new companion’s words rankled with him as he observed the two sparring in front of him. Vegeta hadn’t lost a single fight in his life, until that cursed day he tried to take old Gohan down. Irritation and shame clouded his mind and he clenched his jaw in frustration. That was not how things were supposed to go; he was a prince, _the_ Saiyan prince - he didn’t lose. He was a warrior, feared by every planet in the galaxy. Begrudgingly, he began to feel a trickle of respect for Yamcha. Thief, he may have been, but there was determination in those dark eyes. Vegeta found himself dropping his train of thought to watch the fight more closely.

Yamcha rushed forward, his sudden speed taking Kakarot by surprise. His steps impossibly nimble, he darted towards and away from Kakarot, repeatedly, dashing in to land a blow then feigning away to avoid a return hit. Every time Kakarot thought he figured out the pattern of Yamcha’s attacks, it would change again – the number of punches, the angle of his attack, even the distance he put between them and how fast he closed it again.

Frustration played over the young Saiyan’s face and he let out a yell, taking a fist to the ribs as he lunged for Yamcha. The movement was predictable, though, and he grazed Yamacha’s coat as his own momentum almost took him to the ground. Where Yamcha’s attacks fell short in strength they made up for in speed, overwhelming Kakarot’s clumsy steps.

Vegeta smirked, unable to help himself.

_Maybe this wolf boy isn’t so bad after all._

Gohan had certainly devoted hours to training Kakarot, but their sparring never came close to this level of challenge. Training, practicing, he was familiar with, but this was a true fight. Fearing reinjury, Gohan had refused to instruct him in the more difficult aspects of martial arts.

His missions for Freiza had never involved anything but brute strength, and it was rare for him to be overpowered. Even as a Child of Proving, he’d never been challenged in this way, and it was now painfully apparent that Earthlings fought differently – and Gohan had only touched on these differences.

Sweat was already forming on his forehead as he gave up his attempts at offense and focused on dodging his opponent. Yamcha’s stamina and experience gave him the advantage, though, and Kakarot began to falter under the oppressive rush. Taking a step back, his foot caught on a rock and he lost his balance. Yamcha sprang on the opportunity, flying towards Kakarot and knocking him to his back with a knee. Panting heavily, he stood before leaning down and offering his hand to Kakarot, who grabbed it eagerly and hopped up.

“Did ya see that Vegeta?!” he exclaimed, rubbing his chest but unable to conceal his admiration of Yamcha, “He’s almost as fast as _you_ are!”

Vegeta tossed his head arrogantly and looked away in annoyance.

“Care to prove him wrong?” Yamcha asked, his voice suspiciously friendly.

Vegeta slid off the rock, confident that his observation of Yamcha’s attacks gave him all the preparation he needed. As Yamcha took his stance, however, that confidence wavered a bit. Vegeta awkwardly mimicked the pose he’d seen Kakarot take, bracing his feet and bending a knee. Moments passed as he paced his breathing and tried to read his opponent’s face, but Yamcha gave no indication of how he might open his attack.

A hunter could not survive in the woods for long without caution, and this was a skill Yamcha had spent his entire life honing. Patience, cunning, and the ability to conceal his next move had kept him alive this long, and he had no intention of dropping them now for a show of skill. He leapt to the side, then rushed at Vegeta only to duck and roll past him instead of striking. The feint took Vegeta by surprise and he growled. He spun to face Yamcha with incredible speed, eating Yamcha’s neck strike, deliberately. Vegeta threw a kick to his gut, the momentum of his turn leaving Yamcha breathless and gasping for air.

Ignoring nausea, Yamcha increased his speed and ducked another kick, Kakarot’s rowdy cheers and hoots falling away from his consciousness as he focused his entire attention of Vegeta. Black filled the corners of his vision, and he summoned the image of a wolf in his mind, its fangs glistening as it howled.

“Rogafufu-ken!” He yelled, as he and Vegeta lunged towards one another.

Before their bodies met, however, Vegeta flinched, dodging at the last second with a flying leap and skidding to a stop in the dirt of their impromptu arena. Dust flew up around him in a cloud and he panted, touching his cheek before staring in shock at the blood on his hand. He was certain Yamcha had not touched him, and yet…

Yamcha clutched his stomach and bent slightly, coughing weakly. He stared at Vegeta, who had dropped his defensive posture and was now giving him an incredulous look in return. Their fight had been quick, but close, and both of them knew it; wariness and newfound respect played across their faces.

Vegeta gave a conceding nod to Yamcha as Kakarot ran over to them.

“Not bad, wolf boy,” he admitted, wiping his cheek again, “I didn’t expect that kind of trickery from you.”

Yamcha began to protest but Vegeta waved him away dismissively.

“It’s not an insult,” he continued, “but you have to tell me how you do it.”

Kakarot was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Yamcha what was that?! How did you hit him without touching him?”

“Before my clan was attacked my father was the greatest fighter in our village. He trained me from the time I could walk. Our _saishi_ explained that some of us are gifted, born to be spiritual warriors. We let everything fall away from our focus, and turn our entire energy and concentration onto our attacks. It lets us strike without ever touching our enemies,” he explained, “My father was the strongest such warrior, and he taught me everything he could before he died.”

“Oh, so it’s just like ki, then!” Kakarot exclaimed, and Vegeta nodded slowly.

“Ki?” Yamcha gave them both a puzzled look.

“It’s your latent energy, every living thing has it,” Vegeta spoke up, “If you can control it, you can use your energy as a weapon, or even as a defense. We Saiyans use it a little differently though,” He held his hand out to his side and a purple and white ball flared to life in his palm, growing to the size of his head and then staying steady.

Yamcha gasped, shaking his head, “I can’t do _anything_ like that.”

Kakarot gave him a playful shove.

“Don’t worry, keep sticking around and one day I can learn to do it do, then you ‘n me will have a fight for real!”

* * *

Sumai eyes opened as she heard the gentle sound of running water. Bulma stood in the kitchen, humming quietly to herself. Soft morning sunlight gently illuminated the tiny room, but the noise from the tap had been what woke Sumai. She didn’t know why, but her whole life it had been that way – no matter how short or long she slept she was never tired, and woke at the slightest disturbance. Bulma turned, noticing Sumai sitting up and smiled.

“Tea?” she asked, reaching into a cabinet and removing another cup.

Sumai nodded, making her way to the seats at the counter, “It seems that the boys have decided not to wait for us to wake.”

Bulma shook her head, smiling wryly, “If I know those two, they’re out chasing down whatever animal was first to piss off Vegeta this morning. My guess is they pushed your Yamcha into going along with them.”

An electric beep sounded and Bulma picked up a now steaming kettle.

“Or he pushed them.”

Sumai gave a half-smile, crossing her arms and leaning on the bar. Having finished making tea, Bulma tossed another capsule on the counter. Fruit, pastries, and crispy strips of bacon appeared on a platter.

“They might plan on eating some wild animal, but we’re not,” she grinned at Sumai and plucked a peach from the tray.

Sumai reached for the meat, sniffing it curiously before taking a bite. Her eyes widened in delight as she crunched, then shoved the rest in her mouth. She noticed Bulma staring in amusement and blushed slightly, hurrying to chew.

“I’ve never had anything like this, what is it?”

“You’ve never had _bacon_ before?” Bulma stared at her, slack-jawed.

Sumai reached for another piece. “The palace cook wasn’t very ah….well, Mother doesn’t care for _creativity_ , and that includes her kitchen.”

Bulma noticed her emphasis on the word but decided against pressing on the point.

“You said last night she was a witch - what sort of…work does she do?”

“Whatever she wants,” Sumai snorted derisively, “mostly ordering people around - ” she hesitated, “or running her arena.”

“A witch with an arena?” Bulma’s eyes lit up with interest, “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“She’s a greedy old woman who sells fortunes, and the only thing she likes more than money is fights,” Sumai’s expression was sour, “Growing up she always let me watch, but I was never allowed to fight. That’s why I left, anyway.”

Bulma nodded slowly, “My mother is that way too, well sort of. I wanted this summer to be my adventure, without her telling me what to do all the time. She’s convinced if I do anything other than study or find a boyfriend, I won’t have a chance in life. She means well but…”

Sumai gave her a small smile, “All the same, aren’t they?”

“At least, for now, we make our own rules. Let me show you something,” Bulma hopped off the counter and walked into the other room, rummaging through her backpack. She returned a moment later, setting down what looked like a bright green compass.

“I call this a Dragon Radar – it’s how I found the other Dragon Balls so far. Press that little button on the top.”

Sumai clicked it and the face of the radar lit up, displaying a cluster of tiny orange dots on the screen.

“You made this?” she asked in awe, “Bulma, this is incredible, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

Bulma struck a theatrical pose in the kitchen, fists on her hips, “Well that’s because I, Bulma Briefs, am the greatest scientist in the world!”

Sumai giggled, but her face turned quickly serious, “Say, since you’re so smart…maybe you’d be willing to help me with something? Yamcha is the only person who knows about it but…”

“Of course, anything I can do. We have to stick together, right?” Bulma gently laid a hand on top of Sumai’s as she sat down next to her. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a reason my mother wouldn’t let me fight.” She twisted her hands in her lap awkwardly. “I have some kind of…powers, I don’t understand them. I wouldn’t have told anyone about it until last night but, well, after seeing their tails and that huge animal they killed…”

She trailed off and Bulma nodded understandingly.

“How can I help?”

“You found magic relics and were able to create a device to track them. I thought maybe since you know so much maybe you had read or heard about there being someone else like me out there.”

“Tell me everything, when you first started to notice it, anything unusual you can do,” Bulma pulled a small notebook and pen off the counter and looked expectantly at Sumai, who gave her a weak smile.

* * *

A huge _WHUMP!_ shook the campsite as Kakarot slammed a dead dinosaur on the ground. When they had left early that morning, Vegeta and Yamcha had wheedled him into carrying back their kill - it was only fair, they insisted since he was the loser of the morning. The trip back had been full of good-natured ribbing, most of it at his expense. He wiped the sweat from his face and peered up at the sky.

Vegeta was ordering Yamcha about - or trying to, criticizing his fire until Yamcha rolled his eyes and told him to do it himself. Before long, the animal’s enormous body hung over the flames on a spit, fat dripping, and hissing as it cooked. Bulma came out of the capsule house then, Sumai following close behind her. Yamcha’s face lit up when he saw Sumai, and he gave the log next to him a quick pat.

Bulma was carrying a map and the radar, and making a beeline for Vegeta. She sat down heavily on the ground next to him, oblivious to his instant unease. He swallowed awkwardly and tried to focus on the map she was spreading in front of them.

“I want to go after the next dragon ball today,” Bulma was saying, clicking the radar on.

She zoomed out, showing a single orange dot away from the cluster. On the map, she tapped the narrow mouth that made an opening between two mountain peaks.

“I think it’s here at Mt. Fa Pan, but there’s no road on the map going from our location to it. And I can’t take that kind of chance when our capsules are already running low.”

“Mt. Fa Pan?!” Yamcha yelled in horror, nearly upsetting Sumai off the log in his rush over to Bulma, “Why would you go there? Haven’t you heard the terrifying stories of the Gyumao?!”

Vegeta and Bulma looked at each other in confusion, then back to Yamcha.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, “I’ve never heard anything about the Gyumao, except he’s supposed to be the king of this whole region.”

Yamcha’s fists balled at his side, “Oh he’s the king alright, and he’s a murderous bastard as well. Supposedly he earned his title in military victory, but if you ask me he’s no better than a killer for hire,” he spat on the ground angrily, “I don’t think you should go anywhere near him.”

“That’s all well and good, but Bulma didn’t ask you to climb into bed with him,” Vegeta retorted. Yamcha’s interruption irritated him, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. He shoved the thought out of his mind.

Bulma nodded, “He’s right, Yamcha. I need that Dragon Ball, and according to the radar, it’s right where the Gyumao’s mountain is said to be. I don’t doubt my maps, and I don’t need you doubting my radar,” she sniffed indignantly, eliciting the hint of a smirk from Vegeta.

Their argument had drawn the attention of Sumai and Kakarot, worry and confusion showing plainly on their respective faces. Yamcha sighed, then knelt on the ground and pointed to a copse of trees on Bulma’s map.

“It’s not just what I think about him, and I don’t doubt you. See this forest here? I lived there - my clan and I.”

Bulma arched an eyebrow at him but said nothing, and he sighed.

“Before the Gyumao came to power and before my parents were born, no one lived at Mt. Fa Pan. The stories of wolves kept everyone away, and for many years my people lived in peace. When the Gyumao built his palace, though, he ignored the warnings and destroyed the forest for timber. Our _saishi_ tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t hear of it. My father led our warriors to fight back against his men, to stop them from desecrating our home, but they lost. To punish us for our supposed insubordinance, the Gyumao sent his entire army into the forest and they burned our villages to the ground, killing everyone they saw. My mother told me to run, that she would come for me. But days passed and she never came. I’ve been on my own since - until I met Sumai, anyways.”

Kakarot, entranced by the story, had forgotten his job of turning the dinosaur on its spit. Before anyone could respond to Yamcha’s tale, he let out a yell as the dinosaur’s thick skin split open, letting out a hiss and a cloud of steam. The interruption broke the group’s somber mood, and Bulma was the first to speak.

“Yamcha, there isn’t another way for me to get the Dragon Ball unless I go to Mt. Fa Pan. Even if the Gyumao is as terrible as you say, after all these years maybe he’s not even alive anymore. Have you ever seen him?”

Yamcha shook his head, his brow furrowing in thought, “I swore to myself that I would avenge them. I’m sorry, Bulma, but I can’t go with you. I’ll help you find the way but I refuse to set foot there until I’m ready to defeat the Gyumao in combat.”

“You _will_ come with us,” Vegeta’s voice was level, but Bulma heard an unfamiliar emotion in it, “Kakarot and I will fight with you.”

Sumai gasped, and Yamcha’s mouth hung open in shock.

“You’ll help me avenge my people?” He asked.

“As soon as Bulma here has her Dragon Ball.”

Yamcha’s swung his gaze to Kakarot, “And you’re willing to fight with me as well?”

Kakarot pumped his fist in the air, glowering in determination, “Vegeta and I always fight together,” he said, pride tinging the satisfaction in his voice.

“But…why?” Yamcha was taken aback by the sudden burst of generosity. Certainly, Vegeta had been warmer since their match that morning, and he _did_ seem to respect his loss.

“Saiyans have honor, wolf boy, and if you’re to travel with us you should have yours as well.”

Sumai had been quiet the entire exchange.

“What are you going to use the Dragon Balls for, anyway, Bulma? Why is it so important that you get them?”

Bulma clicked the Dragon Radar off, stuffing it into a pouch on her belt.

“I was thinking I could wish for something easy to study, like maybe a brick of lead. I couldn’t find anything about how these Dragon Balls are supposed to work, so I aim to figure it out myself by wishing for something simple I can run tests on and experiment with. What else would I wish for, strawberries and a boyfriend?” she rolled her eyes, “If I can figure out how they seemingly grant wishes, it would have potentially career-altering implications. My father is known for the Hoi Poi capsules but…I want to be known for my own work, not for being his daughter.”

Bulma gave Vegeta a scrutinizing look before continuing, “What are you going to wish for? You’re a prince, so I can’t imagine they’d be of much use to you.”

Before Vegeta could answer, however, Kakarot piped up, “He’s not _a_ prince, Bulma, he’s _The_ Prince.”

“Yes, yes, we know, he won’t stop mentioning it. _The Prince of all Saiyans,_ ” Bulma said, her voice sarcastic.

 _If this mythical dragon really can grant wishes, we’re using ours to become strong enough to defeat Lord Freiza_. _And bring back our planet._ He thought silently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a completely fan-made work and is not officially affiliated in any way with or endorsed by the Dragon Ball universe, franchise, films, manga, tv specials or games. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, Dragon Ball Super, and all associated franchises are the property of Akira Toriyama, Fuji TV, Toei Animation, Funimation, and their respective creators, writers, artists & publishers. Please support the official release.


	7. Chi, Princess of Fa Pan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected save comes from a regal new stranger.

Within what seemed like minutes, the dinosaur had been reduced to a pile of greasy discarded bones charring in the fire. Kakarot was couched next to the glowing coals, wiping his mouth with his forearm and poking in the ashes with a stick.

Bulma shook her head in disgust as Yamcha sighed, patting his stomach contentedly. She pulled out the little box she kept at her belt, taking stock of her dwindling supplies. Worriedly, she bit her lip. The provisions in the house were mostly gone; she hoped what capsules were left would last her and Sumai until she found a town somewhere to buy more.

“Get rid of the fire, and that awful carcass, will you?” she instructed Vegeta as she got up, “And come get the rest of your clothes, I’m encapsulating the house now. We need to get going; I want to make it far away from Mt. Fa Pan before nightfall.”

He rolled his eyes at her and stood, nudging Kakarot, “You heard the harpy, get moving. I’ll collect our things.”

“And stop calling me a harpy!” she snapped, stomping over to the house.

Kakarot grinned up at him, squinting in the greasy smoke, “She’s gonna punch you, ya know.”

Vegeta scoffed, “She wouldn’t dare,” but he hesitated a moment before following Bulma into the house.

He caught the door as it was closing behind her and his eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim interior. Bulma was already rummaging through cabinets in the kitchen, and he quickly ducked into the side room where his clothes lay. Still in its neat bundle, his armor and cloak - what was left of them - lie in the corner. Kakarot’s Nyoibou sat next to it, and Vegeta felt a pang of annoyance at the memory of Gohan. Snatching their belongings up, he hurried back out of the house and swung the door shut behind him.

“Kakarot!” Vegeta called out, and in the same instant hurled the Nyoibou towards him.

Busying himself with burying the fire, Kakarot didn’t bother to stand up. His tail uncoiled from his waist in a flash and snatched the Nyoibou from the air. Vegeta was tempted to scold him for such a crass use of his tail, but he held his words. Kakarot was getting faster by the day. Maybe this Earthling idea of training outside battle wasn’t so bad after all.

The ground shuddered and Vegeta turned to see Bulma picking the housing capsule up. So far, he had found her outfits strange and garish, but the deep crimson and white she wore caught his eye. The rich red color was reserved for the royal Saiyan members and something about the lush tone against her pale skin… he realized he was staring at her backside again and jerked his gaze away as she stood, his face flushed with embarrassment. He hoped she hadn’t noticed.

Bulma was oblivious as she carefully replaced the housing capsule and took out a vehicle. Even her largest would not fit all of them, not now; Kakarot would be relegated to his Kinto Un. As fast as the house had gone down, the car was up. She had intended the multiple vehicles for an emergency, or in case she needed a guide somewhere. That was simply how she did things, always had. Her mother called it “being an over-planner” but she preferred to live prepared for anything.

Sumai was helping Yamcha back into his clothes, and for a moment their faces were obscured by her cloak. Embarrassed at witnessing what was potentially an intimate moment, Bulma quickly turned away, turning her attention back to the car again. She slung her bag into the storage tray between the seats and leaned over, flipping the dash indicator on. Everything seeming to be in order, she double-checked her pack for the Dragon Balls and radar.

“Bulma,” Sumai’s voice came from behind her, “if we’re going to go to Mt. Fa Pan together, we want to help. You’ve been kind enough to let us stay with you, let us repay you,” She held out a capsule, and Bulma recognized the bright yellow label of a Capsule Plane.

“Sumai!” she gasped in surprise, then frowned, “You said you didn’t know what a capsule was, though?”

Sumai reddened, “This is embarrassing, but we didn’t know what it was for. I never saw anything like that until about a week before we met you. There was a boat wreck on the river and Yamcha found this in the remains. He couldn’t get it open - I guess now we know why.”

Bulma covered her mouth with her hand, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh, “He’s lucky it didn’t malfunction and come out on top of him.”

Removing her bag, she encapsulated the car and placed it back in her capsule container. Warning everyone to stay back, she gave the plane capsule a hard toss into the clearing where the house had stood. Nitrogen vapors hissed, fading quickly on the breeze to reveal a sizeable yellow plane. Kakarot yelled at seeing it appear, and he reached for Nyoibou as he started toward it. Vegeta’s tail shot out, catching him by the ankle and sending him face-first into the dirt.

“Vegeta, let me go! She really _is_ a witch!” he protested, scrambling in vain against Vegeta’s hold.

“Shut up, Kakarot, it’s just a ship. You can’t keep calling her a witch every time she opens a new capsule,” Vegeta admonished, finally loosening his grip.

Kakarot climbed to his feet, still staring suspiciously at the plane and muttering as he dusted himself off. Nyoibou still clutched tightly in his hands, he tiptoed cautiously behind Sumai and Bulma as they entered the plane. Yamcha busied himself with kicking the fire out, dousing the coals in a generous layer of dirt. Vegeta watched him with mild disinterest for a moment before Bulma called his name.

“Hey, are you planning on flying the whole way there, or are you going to _grace us_ with your princely presence?”

She was pulling on a pair of red gloves that matched her top and shoes, and an eye mask hung around her neck now. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in such a confined space around people he barely knew. Vegeta wanted to tell her he didn’t need her plane, he was fine on his own, but he found himself saying nothing. Despite her teasing, her eyes held warmth and gaiety, and for a moment they held him transfixed.

_It’s probably better to just appease her. Besides, if anything happens, I need to conserve my energy._

He tried to convince himself it was a good enough reason to give in. Shaking his head awkwardly, he headed towards the plane and followed her through the door.

Inside, everyone was settling into the seats and fastening themselves into harnesses. The tiny interior surprised him, given the size of the vessel from the outside. Two tiny rows of seats were crammed behind the cockpit, the ceiling sloping at head height. Brackets, ropes, and warning posters in multiple languages covered the wall in seemingly no particular order. It reminded him of the smugglers’ ships on Arcose.

He felt Yamcha squeeze around him to sit next to Sumai. Kakarot barely fit in the rear seat with everyone’s belongings. Vegeta’s stomach twisted as he realized Bulma wasn’t seated with everyone else and must be piloting the plane. A sustained beep sounded, and the plane door folded shut behind him.

“Are you serious right now?” he demanded of Bulma, stepping into the cockpit, “You know how to pilot this aircraft?”

She was clamoring about the tiny room, squeezing by him so close her waist brushed his arm twice. He felt his fingers digging into the seat next to him and forcibly relaxed.

Bulma gave him a devilish smile, “Please when I was 5 years old I was already fixing space ships. I know what I’m doing,” she grinned at his obvious surprise and began starting the ship up with a violent roar that shook the whole craft, “Why don’t you sit up here with me and see for yourself? Don’t worry, I’ll keep the royal asshole safe.”

* * *

Chi sat on a dusty bluff, overlooking the wasteland in front of Mt. Fa Pan. Jagged pillars rose crookedly from the ground, their choppy surfaces worn from harsh winds. An arid breeze danced through her hair, and she leaned back to stare at the cloudless sky, wondering what it would be like to see the floating shapes - like in her mother’s books. No rain fell here and hadn’t for years.

The sparse vegetation was limp, browned from the sun and stunted by the fire that never went out. Mt. Fa Pan burned day and night, inhabited by a wolf demon since she was a little girl. Her father refused to speak of the day the demon engulfed their home. Her mother had died that day, and with it, it seemed a part of her father died as well. The colossal spirit spat fire at anyone who tried to come near, making him impossible to contend with.

She sighed and took off her helmet before lying back on the cloak spread out beneath her. Even in her lightest armor, the heat was oppressive, coaxing sweat from every inch of her body. Her skin was nearly bared, both to the breeze as well as the blistering sun. Rich blue chest armor ended at her ribs, the otherworldly fabric fitting her like a glove while withstanding tremendous impact. Her father had found it during one of his trips to the capital, from a strange merchant who claimed it belonged to a female alien general. “Fit for a princess” her father had insisted. Epaulets striped with brilliant white peaked out over each shoulder. She had to agree with him.

A well-worn book lay at her side, its pages dog-eared and its cloth cover frayed. The tome was filled with hand-drawn illustrations of fantastical creatures, princesses and sorcerers. The only memories she had of her mother were of being read the book at night before she slept. Absentmindedly, she flipped through the book, fingering the gilded title page of her favorite story. _The Monkey King._ Her daydreaming was interrupted by the roar of approaching engines.

Chi gasped, scrambling to her feet to see a bright yellow plane rising over one of Mt. Fa Pan’s western peaks. Excitement filled her, and she snatched her cloak, fumbling to wrap her book in it while putting her helmet back on. In all the years she and her father lived at Mt. Fa Pan, they had never had a single visitor. One by one, the villagers moved away. Even the old woman who had cared for her after her mother’s death left, eventually. Once a season, her father would fly to the Eastern Capital to buy supplies. No matter how hard she begged, he refused to allow her to accompany him.

The rocky foothills of Mt. Fa Pan were littered with unstable boulders and sheer drop-offs, but Chi leapt between them with ease. She picked her way down them as fast as safety allowed, throwing her cloaked arm in front of her mouth to mitigate the dust she kicked up. Giant sandworms had long-since invaded the desert at the foot of the mountain, the blistering heat and dry ground providing the perfect habitat for them.

They burrowed into the ground, churning rock sediment into sand with their enormous jaws. There, in the furrowed sand they would lie in wait, sensing vibrations of anything treading near its home with its copious antennae. They couldn’t sense much in the rockier stretches, though, and Chi stuck to these cautiously.

The noise from the plane grew louder, and she turned in horror to see they weren’t heading for the village but heading straight for the sand. She frantically waved, yelling and trying to flag the pilot, but it was to no avail. Her heart began to pound in her chest, adrenaline turning her blood to ice. Time seemed to compress before her as the plane descended to a bumpy landing - directly in the sand fields.

The first sandworm sprung up with near-perfect timing, silt flying in arcs as its body writhed and just missed the plane. A second sandworm burst forth, taking a bite out of the plane’s tail as it skidded wildly to a stop driving the sandy earth in waves. Black smoke poured from the plane engines as they shuttered to a grinding halt.

Chi yanked the horn from her waist and sounded a single wailing note. A return cry distantly answered her almost immediately. Bracing herself, Chi placed both hands on her helmet aiming and releasing the blade attached to the top with all her might. The second sandworm shrieked as the glistening metal tore its side open, acidic blood hissing as it hit the sand. Both worms dove back below the surface, and the earth shook again as a purple dragon touched down in front of her, giving a guttural growl in response to the horn. Chi pressed a small button on the front of her helmet and the acid covered blade came flying back towards her. She caught it, hurriedly wiping it on the ground before replacing it on her head. Legs shaking, she clamored up his side and urged him towards the plane.

“Let’s fly Icarus!” she commanded. She tugged the reigns towards the plane, “This way!”

A long, slender polearm was fixed to the saddle, the bladed tip curving wickedly and glinting off the sunlight. Three uninjured sandworms rose, and Icarus dove toward them eagerly. Chi pulled the weapon loose, leaning low across his neck. Fire poured from his mouth as he roared, singing one worm to a crisp as it retreated in vain. Her polearm flashed and relieved another sandworm of its head. She pulled Icarus in a tight circle, angling towards the third, but the plane door flew open and it lunged at the passengers, hissing and snapping. Chi felt her throat tighten, preventing her from screaming a warning. Several gunshots sounded before she could speak, and the back of the sandworm’s head exploded in a fine acidic mist, sending it writhing to the ground.

* * *

“We have to get out of here before more come!”

The girl out there was talking to them, Kakarot realized. He was still staring at the creature Bulma had just shot, its black-red blood oozing out, bubbling angrily as it stained the sand.

Sumai’s voice was terrified, “We can’t leave, what if there’s more still underground?”

Kakarot stuck his head out of the plane and called back to the girl, “Can ya take my friends on that lizard or will he try to eat ‘em?”

The girl frowned, holding her mount steady and hovering, “Well…no he won’t eat them…and he’s a dragon. And not all at once, but yes, I can carry them. However, I cannot simply leave you behind and take them, what will you do?”

He grinned, “You don’t need to worry ‘bout me,” Cupping his hands to his mouth, he took a deep breath and yelled, “Kinto Un!” he turned back to Sumai, “You ‘n Yamcha go with her.”

Yamcha began to protest, but Vegeta cut him off, “Stop dawdling, unless you all want to die. I will carry Bulma and Kakarot has his…Nimbus. Now go, before those disgusting creatures come back!”

Sumai looked like she wanted to argue, but on seeing Vegeta’s face instead snatched her cloak and Yamcha’s hat from the seat. At the mention of a rescue plan, Bulma had begun scurrying around the plane madly, stuffing the Dragon Balls, map, and radar into her bag. She slung it on as Sumai and Yamcha bolted from the plane and clamored up onto the dragon’s back. He was at least three meters high, wispy white feathers sprouting from his head and the tip of his tail.

The Kinto Un stopped in front of the open door, and Kakarot grabbed the bundle Vegeta handed him before hopping onto it.

“They are coming, we must hurry!!” the dragon girl cried, pointing behind them with her weapon.

Clouds of dust were growing as furrows raced towards them in the sand. Bulma clamored onto Vegeta’s back and he flew out of the plane, looking a little unsteady. Satisfied that everyone had made it out of the plane, Kakarot caught up with their rescuer.

“So how do ya know about those…monster things? Are ya sure they won’t follow us?” he asked, looking back at the shrieking bugs swarming the plane, rending great holes with every flash of their pincers.

Within seconds almost all of the metal had been dragged beneath the sand.

“I am certain. The _sandworms_ will not leave their burrows. I live not far from here, in Mt. Fa Pan village with my father,” she emphasized the sand monsters’ name but smiled, “My name is Chi.”

_Mt. Fa Pan…by the moon!_

“You must be the Gyumao’s daughter, then, huh?” Kakarot swallowed hard, trying to inconspicuously peer at Yamcha.

At the mention of the warlord, Yamcha’s fingers turned white, gripping the saddle next to him. He seemed as though he would speak, but Sumai frowned behind him and Yamcha’s face went hard, almost as if he sensed her discomfort. The motion was slight, but Kakarot’s eye caught Sumai gently squeezing Yamcha tighter.

 _She didn’t say anything, but it’s almost like he knew. Like Vegeta ‘n me._ He realized.

He briefly looked down at the distant ground below, surprised at how desolate and empty the area was.

Oblivious to her passenger’s history with her father, Chi nodded at Kakarot, frowning, “How do you come to know of my father, but not of the sandworms here?”

Vegeta had finally managed to catch up with them, concentration painting his face with sweat as he carried Bulma with obvious effort. He flew parallel to the ground with her seated on his back, and she clung to his gi as her hair whipped in the wind.

“He’s the king of Mt. Fa Pan, right?” Bulma waved at Chi with her free hand and the motion made Vegeta sway wildly, earning her a reprimand, “His name is in one of my books I read when I was doing research. But the book didn’t say anything about a desert at Mt. Fa Pan, much less those disgusting worms - what happened here?”

Chi shook her head, “That is a very long story, I will let my father explain,” she pointed ahead of them as they passed an enormous rock formation, “The road is just here, and it will be safe to walk the rest of the way- it is not far, now.”

Arrogance crept into Vegeta’s voice, “I don’t need to take a break and walk, I’m strong enough to fly.”

Giving a low, crooning whistle, Chi responded without turning to him, “Yes, but Icarus is not as accustomed to carrying passengers as he once was,” she said simply as the dragon dipped eagerly to a landing at her signal.

Vegeta’s face flushed, and Kakarot was certain he heard Sumai suppressing a giggle as they glided downward. He hesitated a moment to whisper to Vegeta before following Chi.

“You don’t s’pose Yamcha will do anything stupid and let slip about his…” Kakarot trailed off, uncertain of how to characterize Yamcha’s story from that morning.

“He wouldn’t put Sumai in danger like that,” Bulma said, rolling her eyes at the look they both gave her, “Stop gossiping and land already, or she’s going to get suspicious.”

Reluctantly, they complied. As he touched down, though, Vegeta’s knees buckled from the impact and Bulma went over his shoulders unceremoniously, hitting the ground hard with a yell. Clearly unhurt but annoyed, she flipped him off.

Kakarot knew Vegeta was still new to flight; he also knew the prince was too proud to admit this to Bulma.

“Aw, give him a break, Bulma. Maybe if ya hadn’t stuffed your backpack full of so much extra junk, he could’ve landed softer.”

Bulma glared at him, “Ah yes, the _junk_ map and the _junk_ radar that we need to find the _junk_ Dragon Balls,” She pulled out a long glossy black box with bold red lettering stamped on the side, “And I suppose this state-of-the-art laser rifle is junk too? That was a smuggler’s plane, no doubt. This is a Red Ribbon rifle, the kind they give to their aerospace Elites. They’re modeled after the Galactic Patrol’s standard-issue,” Bulma was staring at the box, starry-eyed.

Sumai had hurried off of Icarus the moment they landed, leaving Yamcha to scurry after her, “Are you okay?” She ran up to Bulma, hugging her tightly. Her eyes scanned up and down, worry on her face, “You went down so hard!”

Bulma laughed wryly as she disentangled herself from Sumai’s arms, “I’m fine, no thanks to Vegeta,” she jerked a thumb in his direction, “Without doubt the worst driver I’ve ever had,” she grinned as Chi came over, Icarus lumbering slowly next to her, “You showed up just in time to save Sumai and Yamcha back there.”

“Yes,” Chi answered, “You are very fortunate I was nearby. The sandworms are very dangerous as you can see.”

As if the mention of them reminded her of their narrow escape, Sumai shuddered, “You’re so brave to live anywhere near here, they’re terrifying! But you must be brave, with…Icarus?”

The name ended in a question and Chi nodded, “Do not worry, they cannot follow us this far, and are not skilled at moving above ground.”

“I was too scared to look down when we were flying, but he’s so beautiful - I’ve never seen a dragon in person before,” Sumai timidly stretched out a hand, imitating the clicking noise Chi had made with her tongue earlier. Icarus lowered a horned head, nuzzling her palm.

Chi gave the reigns a tug and laughed softly, “I think he likes you. When we return to the village you can give him some of his favorite treats. The road is just here - and don’t worry, will keep us safe,” she gave them all a satisfied nod and turned to walk, the heels of her boots digging into the crumbling dirt of the incline.

The grounds surrounding their fatal landing spot had been spotted with sparse bushes and small creeping plants, but here there appeared to be no life. Kakarot looked around at the strange, barren landscape. Huge rocky formations reached for the sky with their rocky columns like bony fingers, and the air was oppressively still. He frowned, realizing he hadn’t seen any animals besides the sand worms since they landed.

He quickened his steps to catch up with Chi, eager to speak more with this intriguing girl, “Say, I haven’t seen anything livin’ here except for you, is there anything tasty to hunt here?”

She gave him a curious look, “You wish to know if I hunt and eat the sand worms?”

Kakarot stuck his tongue out and grimaced, “I’ve been _awful_ hungry before but I dunno if I could eat that. They kinda looked like they’d wanna eat me.”

Chi laughed, and his train of thought vanished in the wind with the noise as she smiled at him. His heart felt like a fish flopping in his chest, and he suddenly had the overwhelming urge to fall back closer to his friends. She didn’t seem to notice though, and continued.

“I should wager that they have tried to eat me hundreds of times. But they are no match for my Icarus and me.” Giving him a mischievous smile that seemed out of place on her elegant features, she gently patted the polearm strapped to the dragon.

Behind them, Vegeta was trying to keep his voice low enough to avoid notice by Chi, “Don’t fuck this up,” He warned, his eyes boring a hole into Yamcha, “Just stick with our plan. We follow her, we get the Dragon Balls, and _then_ \- and only then - we deal with her father.”

* * *

An enormous palace, strangely untouched yet swathed in flames, came into view in the distance as they took a twist in the road. Flames licked even the highest towers, the roaring inferno engulfing every stone of the massive structure. Despite how far away they were from it, an oppressive heat rolled off of it, hitting them like a wave.

Sumai gasped, and Chi shook her head sadly, “This village was once full of life, but everyone fled because of the fire demon. Now, there is no one here - save my father and me. You are the first strangers to set foot here in a decade.“

Ahead of them, the mountains parted, making way for the worn and dusty road. Huge gilded gates stood thrown open wide, revealing the village, their grand panels carved like sentries at watch. Tall, wooden houses crowded the cliff faces, their elegant roofs curving gently down before peaking up at the corners into sharp points.

The brightly painted walls wore thick a layer of dust, and an eerie silence blanketed the street. What was once clearly a bustling hub of activity was now a husk. A distorted memory hummed at the edges of Kakarot’s mind - a dark silent place of death - full of people he knew, or had known? He glanced at Vegeta, wondering what else was missing from his memory.

Kakarot craned his head, staring in awe at the strange buildings, wondering how the delicate wood could be so strong and stretch so high. Carvings adorned every balcony and doorway, the barest touch of gilt still remaining on them. Tattered banners hung in the windows, the once colorful fabric bleached by the sun shining through the open shutters. A door banged behind him in the wind, and he jumped, startled.

_Somethin’ smells wrong. This place gives me the creeps._

He tightened his tail around his waist. Chi stopped Icarus in front the first building next to the gates its courtyard the sole one clear of scrub and dead plant debris. Lacquered red doors shone beneath a heavy coat of grime, the dust worn away at the golden handles.

“Be at ease, Icarus,” she commanded, draping the reins over the rail, “Come, you should rest and eat. My father will return at sunset from hunt - and worry not, it won’t be sand worms,” she winked at Kakarot and he looked away quickly, feeling awkward, “There is an empty bench by the door, please feel free to leave your belongings there.

She removed her helmet and pushed the heavy door open. Kakarot stepped carefully over the threshold, his mouth opening in awe. Rich tapestries covered the dark wooden walls, and an enormous square table took up most of the floor, its surface strewn with papers, maps, open books, and strange-looking devices. As Chi walked into the adjacent room, more lanterns lit the house with a soft amber glow.

Air rushed across Kakarot’s face and he looked up in surprise. Enormous mechanical fans were mounted to the ceiling, slowly waving after one another like the wings of a giant bird.

 _No wonder it’s not so hot in here._ He realized.

Through the railings he could see to the second floor and his mouth parted in wonder. The walls there were lined with rows and shelves of books, reaching from the floor to the ceiling.

Kakarot sat down next to his bundle on the bench, tugging off his boots and placing them carefully on the floor. Chi’s bright pink boots sat next to a few neat pairs of slippers and the largest shoes Kakarot had ever seen.

_How big is the_ _Gyumao_ _? Those shoes are the size of me!_

Picking one up, he held it to his chest and looked at Vegeta in confusion, but the other Saiyan seemed not to notice and was already removing his dirty boots and cape. Sumai sat awkwardly on the other end of the bench, her legs crossed tightly. She was shaking her head at something Yamcha murmured in her ear.

Chi came back in just then, carrying a large tray piled with what looked like folded clothes. A loose indigo robe hung over her armor, and she’d removed her peculiar shoulder pads. Her dark, black hair was loosely tied up, and a single red stick with a strange gold design on the end stuck out of the knot. She almost reminded Kakarot of someone, but he knew that was impossible.

“I thought that you might wish to bathe after such an encounter. There are baths at the back of the house, and I have brought these robes for you,” she smiled warmly at them and tilted her head to the doorway she had just come through, “Please, this way.”

Yamcha spoke for the first time since they landed, his voice sharp, “Why should we trust you? You expect us to just leave the Dragon Balls here and follow you into this strange house?”

As soon as the words left his lips, a cold silence settled over the room. The seconds stretched out, tension filling the air.

_He’s messin’ everything up!_

Kakarot’s blood roared to life and he felt his tail bristle; he felt Vegeta’s wary tension behind him matching his own unease. Bulma was bright red, glaring at Yamcha as if she was ready to throw him into the fireplace and eat him.

Chi’s voice was level, but as she spoke Kakarot caught her dark eyes and felt himself shiver at the danger he saw there.

“Why would I risk my life, put myself in danger fighting sandworms, and escort you into my home just to steal things I know nothing of?” her chin lifted slightly as her gaze burned into Yamcha, “I am a princess; stealing is both below my station and unnecessary. Perhaps you should have brought your own dragon to escape on.”

Even Sumai was glaring at Yamcha as she spoke hurriedly, “He didn’t mean any offense, and is _very_ sorry.” she pinned Yamcha with a look that spoke volumes, “I think we all just need to rest after what just happened. Why don’t you come with Bulma and me and we can talk? No interruptions this time.”

Yamcha wilted under their collective glares, staring red-faced at the floor.

Chi’s grip on the tray seemed to relax, and she nodded, “Of course. I would enjoy the company – we do not get visitors here anymore.”

She headed back through the door and Bulma turned to Vegeta before following her, “This time keep an eye on him!” she hissed, her eyes darting to Yamcha.

* * *

The setting sun turned the papered windows crimson as they sat around the table. Yamcha leaned against the wall, subdued but observing the room with a focus not unlike that of a wolf. He could feel Sumai’s anxiety and disappointment whenever he looked across the table at her where she sat with Chi as they pored over a book.

Kakarot and Vegeta had their heads together, examining a blade from the table and talking quietly. What about, he couldn’t summon the energy to care. Bulma had her eye nearly touching a magnifying glass as she leaned over the largest of the table maps, continually pushing up the long sleeves of her robe and frowning in annoyance. Despite the warm décor of the room, everything felt gray and hollow, almost artificial.

_How can they all just sit here as if nothing is wrong?_

His companions seemed to have warmed to their rescuer almost immediately, as if without care to his warnings from that morning about the brutality of the Gyumao. Sure, she hadn’t done anything yet, but she was his daughter after all. He crossed his arms, the low conversation blending into a dim hum as his mind wandered. Doubt clouded his thoughts.

_She can’t be that much older than me…I wonder if she even knows about what her father did._

Vegeta had all but threatened to send him back to the sandworms if he fucked up again, and this time Kakarot had made no move to defend him. The tension in the bathhouse had been palpable, and he felt even more on edge now than when they’d gone in. Sumai on the other hand, had felt more and more relaxed the longer she’d been in, and he wondered just how much she and Bulma had told Chi. The bond was a constant connection with her emotions and he felt himself envying her ease.

Heavy footsteps sounded outside the front door and Chi looked up expectantly, smiling at them, “It seems my father has returned from hunt, I must greet him. Please, remain comfortable.”

She stood, gliding across the room to open the door. The largest man Yamcha had ever seen stepped through it, his head nearly touching the top of the frame and his shoulders brushing the sides.

A long cloak of bright red flowed behind him as he removed a horned helmet not too unlike Chi’s. Deep purple armor ended above his knees in layers of strips that swung and danced as he moved, the bronze buttons on them flashing. Massive arms were cuffed in bracers of the same rich hue, and loose deep blue pants were tucked into his surprisingly simple boots.

_So this is the fearsome Gyumao._

Chi took his cloak, neatly folding it before placing it in an elaborately carved chest next to the door.

“Hello Father, I trust your hunt went well? We have guests awaiting the honor of meeting you.”

Gyumao looked surprised to see a handful of teenagers sitting around his table, and he stumbled for a moment at the step up into the room. Whether it was the man’s height, his moving towards them, or the cumulative stress of the day, Yamcha did not know, but he rose deliberately from his seat and took a step forward. Sumai snapped at him in a low whisper to stop, but he ignored her, pushing her pleading to the corner of his mind with his fear.

“I am Yamcha of the Wolf Fang tribe! You murdered my family, you destroyed my home, and I am here to make you pay!”

For a moment, no one spoke. Yamcha saw Vegeta slowly sit up straight and tense; he tried not to think about what would happen if the two Saiyans decided not to back him up after all. Gyumao’s expression changed to one of shock, indignation, and then sorrow as he let out a weary sigh.

“I did not expect visitors, much less accusations,” he shook his head sadly, “I knew the evil from that day would return to haunt me in the end. I couldn’t stop it in time,” he sat down heavily at the table, waving a hand at Yamcha, who still looked ready to fight at a moment’s notice, “Sit, I will tell you what happened.”

Warily, Yamcha lowered his hands but still stood. Sumai grabbed a fist full of his robe, though, and yanked him down.

_Sit._

The single word split through the bond and her irritation hit him like the crack of a whip. Gyumao nodded and continued, “These lands of Mt. Fa Pan, and my title were granted to me at the end of the last uprising of The Red Ribbon Army. What I saw in war - the people I saw as we marched through the countryside - it ended my desire for combat.”

* * *

_“Colonel Gyu, you are hereby recognized for your outstanding service in the defense of the Earth and its people. Your bravery, valor, and dedication to your cause have helped to end the reign of a terrorist group. We grant you the title Mao, and the lands of Mt. Fa Pan.”_

_The General lifted their hands into the air, and cheers erupted. Imo stood at the front of the crowd, a tiny baby girl in her arms. The child’s gaze never wavered from her father, and she giggled in delight as he smiled at her kindly. Gyu sighed, content. Now that the war was over, he would take them far away. Somewhere they would be out of reach of the violence and cruelty of society._

_Night after night, they stopped their travel to rest. He rocked the child as Imo’s skilled fingers flew across the pages of her sketchbook. As she drew, spiraling towers, a grand courtyard, a sweeping library and a banquet hall fit for a king flowed together. Imo was pouring her imagination into planning their future home. Gyu read to baby Chi from Imo’s illustrated books, spinning grand tales of high adventures, magical beings, princesses, and heroes. Some nights, Imo would tell her own stories._

_The sixth night they stopped, they encountered a family with three young children. The children huddled around a fire, attempting to share a tattered blanket amongst them. Imo burst into tears, throwing opening their stores to the family. The Red Ribbon Army had burned their village, the mother explained. The soldiers had taken everything of value before running the family into the plains. Imo’s drawings began to change after that - from grand staircases to stables and town squares, from balconies to inns. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke of using their wealth to build a new city for the refugees._

_They encountered an old man carrying his grandson, a young woman who was with child, orphans, stray dogs. The further East they went the more horrific the stories of the army were. Their band grew, until a veritable city followed them across the wilderness, clinging to Gyu and Imo as their only hope. As the travelers entered the mouth of Fa Pan valley, the appearance of stranded people ceased. Whispers of a haunted forest swirled about the camp at night, and children no longer played out of sight._

_At last, the mountain loomed ahead. Gyu ordered his men into the forest, leveling the trees and putting up buildings every hour of daylight. Within mere weeks, tiny homes dotted the base of the mountain, and the attitude of the people relaxed. Conflict hovered in the shadows of the forest though. Before the seasons changed, an old man was announced at the gate, demanding to speak to the Gyumao. He was from a people who inhabited the forest, and he named Gyu an evil presence, demanding he leave and take the refugees with him. The trees, he said, should not be cut down. They were not for outsiders to take._

_Gyu implored the old man to see reason, he told him of his time spent fighting in wars and how it had destroyed the people’s lives. But rather than convince the old man, his story seemed to make him more determined._

_“You will bring violence to our land,” the old man warned, “I have seen the bloodshed you bring. Should you remain, our people will be reduced to one. In time, we will be forgotten. We cannot abide the presence of these outsiders in our land. Their problems and their war are their own to deal with, we must take care of ourselves. Outsiders are not welcome here.”_

_But Gyu refused to see his people live in want. The men continued to chop away at the forest, and the village grew. Refugees from miles around traveled to Mt. Fa Pan, seeking a better life. For the next two years, the Wolf Fang Tribe attacked the patrols outside the village, and both sides suffered great loss._

_Gyu soon tired of the conflict, fearing in time the violence would undo all his effort. He gave orders to his men that evening. No one was to cut down any more trees in the forest until peace had been reached. But unknown to Gyu, a traitor lay within the ranks. Envious over Gyu’s title and success, Lieutenant Zha had poisoned the minds of the men. He claimed magical power lay within the forest, that the Wolf Fang Tribe was keeping them out to hoard it for themselves._

_The pale, full moon sat high in the sky one night, silvery light filtering through the trees as the Wolf Fang slept in their beds. Zha led his men charging through the forest, hurling explosives and setting the woods on fire. Screams filled the night, despair and evil thick on the air. Zha dragged the old man who had visited Mt. Fa Pan out of his home last, laughing and ranting as he promised to fell every tree in the forest. He lifted the man by his neck, crushing him against a tree, but the old man refused to take back his prophecy. Zha raged, his fists tightening in a death grip, but it was to no avail. With his dying breath, the old man cursed Mt. Fa Pan, summoning a wolf of flame that would burn the palace forever._

_The sound of explosions and smoke woke the town, their cries of fear rousing Gyu and Imo from their slumber. Dread knotted in Gyu’s throat as he dressed himself, kissing Imo and Chi. Strapping on his ax, he bolted into the forest, alone. He was too late, though, entering the decimated village just in time to see the old man’s neck snap in Zha’s hands. Rage filled him, and he struck Zha down with a single blow. The confrontation stunned the rest of the men who had followed Zha - they seemed not to know how to react. He screamed at them, loosing every curse on Earth and banishing them from Mt. Fa Pan._

_His tirade was cut short by a thunderous crack so loud it shook the earth beneath his feet. The sky roiled as black clouds covered the moon and lightning shattered the inky night. A wolf of flames burst from above, roaring with ferocity and racing down the mountain to engulf the palace in flames. Gyu’s blood ran cold with horror, his mind filled with images of Imo and Chi._

_He mounted Icarus and flew back towards the palace, the dragon straining in an effort to please his master. Wails filled the air as they approached the gates; the heat forced him to throw a hand up in defense as he landed. He sank to his knees, a guttural howl of sorrow ripping from his throat. A hand touched his shoulder, and he turned to see Imo’s maid holding a wiggling bundle._

* * *

“Imo saved Chi’s life, that evening,” Gyumao said sadly, “The maid told me Imo returned to the palace for supplies, to go into the town and help calm the people. The curse gained power before she could make it out. She died because I wasn’t able to secure peace.”

An uncomfortable silence hung heavy in the air. Yamcha felt as if every eye in the room was burning a hole in him, and his stomach was sour with guilt. His whole life he had carried this grudge, this pain, fixating on the loss of his family and clinging to the one thing he knew to be true – only it wasn’t. Panic washed over him, obliterating his ability to think. He nearly upset the table in his rush to get up, mumbling an excuse as he bolted for the door and rushed into the night.

He stumbled off of the porch, bracing his hands on his knees as he bent over, heaving. Black filled the edges of his vision as his mother’s face swam in his mind.

_Everything I ever knew…_

Sumai was already coming, he could feel her reaching for him with warmth and concern. For the first time, he rejected it, unable to bring himself to care about the hurt he felt in return as he ran from her in his head. She came anyway, to his mind and his body, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist from behind and squeezing. He trembled, sinking to the ground and holding his head in his hands.

“You go your whole life…believing something to be the truth…and then find out it’s fucking bullshit. How can I believe _anything_ now - how do I even know what’s really real?” he gasped between words, fighting to control the tightness in his chest and the pounding in his head.

Crouching in front of him, Sumai clasped his hands in her own, “When Baba first told me about magic, she told me there was one thing I had to remember before anything else. There is only one truth, and any variant is a conclusion drawn from incomplete information,” she hesitated as he gave her a blank stare, “Okay, look - what you knew wasn’t the whole story. If you think something is true you have to go find out for sure, you can’t just assume.”

Yamcha shook his head and raked his hands back through his hair, “I can’t go back in there and face them now. You heard what I told them this morning in the camp, now they’re all going to think that I’m a liar and a coward.”

Sumai released his hands from hers before cupping his face in her palms, “Look at me.” she pleaded, “You were a child when this happened, and all you knew was what the saishi told your father and what you saw the day Zha attacked the village. No one will blame you for that, Yamcha.”

Words failed him as emotion finally overtook him, and he succumbed to Sumai’s embrace through the bond as he wept in her arms in the moonlight.


	8. Memories Shared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakarot's abilities reveal his lost memories, but at what cost?

Thin slivers of silver moonlight filtered through the cracks in the window frames, gently illuminating the room. Vegeta could hear Bulma’s soft whiffling snore behind the screen that separated them. For over an hour he had lain there, unmoving, his own breath a bare whisper as he listened to her move in her sleep. At first, he had thought her presence comforting, and expected for sleep to easily overtake him.

Then her proximity began to weigh on him, and he found himself irritated at the offending screen – he much preferred roughing it with a cushion on the floor of the capsule house’s common room, where he could see her. He couldn’t put his finger on it, the feeling he got in her presence, but he had become embarrassingly reliant on it during their travel together.

A whisper broke his errant thoughts and he felt his skin and tail tingle at the jarring interruption. “Vegeta?” came Kakarot’s voice, “Are ya still awake?”

Vegeta grunted in response, shifting his blanket.

“I wanted to ask you – it’s about, well – do you remember your father?” his quiet voice sounded small in the dark, and Vegeta was reminded of the fear he’d heard in it as their pods hurtled towards the earth.

“Of course I remember my father! What kind of a question…”

He heard the blankets rustle as Kakarot rolled onto his side and leaned on one elbow.

“I’m bein’ serious.”

Vegeta shushed him, “Keep your voice down! You’ll wake everyone here. Now, why would you ask me that?” he peered at Kakarot in the shadows, his keen eyes rapidly adjusting.

There was a long pause, and shame filled Kakarot’s voice when he spoke, “I can’t remember mine…I don’t really remember anyone. I know we lost everyone but…when I try to think of them it’s just fuzzy.”

Vegeta felt his throat tighten and he swallowed hard, biting off his emotion at the reminder of Vegetasei’s destruction.

He gave a strangled cough, “What do you remember?”

Another a long silence before Kakarot answered, “Just what I saw when I…” he seemed to be struggling to continue, “when I touched your arm and…saw what you saw,” he finished miserably.

Ice struck Vegeta’s heart like a knife and he felt as if his chest would collapse in on itself. Nightmarish images of his parents crowded at the edges of his mind where he’d been pushing them – running from them.

_But at least I have them._

“Do it, then,” he said suddenly, “Everything this time. I won’t hold back.”

Kakarot’s confusion was plain on his face, even in the dim moonlight, “You want me to try ‘n feel that again, are ya sure? I thought…” he hesitated, “well I thought you were mad about that.”

Vegeta clenched his jaw before tossing his blanket aside and kneeling on the floor between their beds.

“They might be only nightmares now, but at least I have memories of those I lost. I can’t withhold the same from you. Besides, it wouldn’t be right for you not to be able to carry the memory of our people,” he reached for Kakarot’s wrist and tugged, “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Kakarot scrambled clumsily over to Vegeta, sitting cross-legged and facing him. “If you’re sure ya want this…”

“Get on with it, before I change my mind. And keep quiet!” Vegeta hissed.

Nodding solemnly, Kakarot placed both his hands on Vegeta’s shoulders and closed his eyes.

* * *

Almost instantly, heat radiated from Kakarot’s hands, rushing up his arms and cascading over him. The pain made his stomach roll and he clenched his jaw, digging in his grip as waves of anguish flowed through his mind. The Queen’s voice made him jump and he felt her icy hands on his arm, his skin crawling at the imagined sensation. The acrid smell of smoke stung his nose and his ears filled with screams. He probed desperately for his parents, fumbling blindly for anything familiar, trying to sift through Vegeta’s memories of the explosion. He knew he wouldn’t find his family here. He would have to search deeper.

A giant Saiyan towered over him, raucous laughter ringing as he slammed down a huge mug on a table and punched him in the shoulder.

_Nappa!_

He chased the memories of Nappa’s face and fists, of fights and lectures until another Saiyan stood in front of him. Glossy black hair cascaded down his back as he looked over his shoulder, his eyes flaming black pits on an arrogant face. Kakarot reached for the Saiyan anyway, sensing a deep familiarity, and the twisted expression warmed into a smile. Vegeta’s memory whispered a name in Kakarot’s mind.

_Radditz_ _…he’s my brother! I have a brother!_

In the corner of his mind, he heard Vegeta groan and felt him shake in his grip, but he held on tighter, pushing away the distraction and searching doggedly for more memories of Radditz. His brother appeared again, and Kakarot focused on the man next to him. Spiky black hair that reminded him of his own framed a dark face with a ragged cross scar on the cheek.

_DAD!_

Kakarot tried to scream but his control slipped and Vegeta’s voice in the memory buzzed insistently.

_“Bardock,_ _Radditz_ _, let’s leave! Nappa is already waiting, stop fucking around with the kid.”_

Kakarot’s own memories began to swirl, an avalanche tumbling through his head to swallow him whole. Radditz reached for him, his arms dwarfing Kakarot as if he were a baby – no he _was_ a baby – and Bardock was holding him too. He felt himself being rocked, higher and higher into the sky, then he was flying through the air. He wanted to laugh with delight as he landed in a pair of soft arms. He felt warm and snug. Surprised, he looked up into a pair of dark eyes and his heart felt as if it would explode.

_Ma…_

Nausea and emotion hit him as he lost his grip on Vegeta and fell limply over, his life playing in his head faster than he could feel.

* * *

Vegeta’s body was dripping with cold sweat and his nails dug into his skin where he’d gripped his legs as Kakarot trampled through his memories. The loss and pain stung him bitterly like venom. He’d thought he couldn’t take anymore when Kakarot abruptly let go and fell towards him, shaking like a leaf. Vegeta grabbed him roughly and tried to sit him upright, cursing as Kakarot heaved again.

“How could I forget…” he gasped, his tail vibrating with emotion.

“Look at me,” Vegeta whispered hoarsely, shaking him.

Kakarot’s young face was twisted in pain, “I remember everythin’ now, even comin’ here. You…you saved me and brought me to Grandpa, didn’t ya?”

Giant tears rolled down his cheeks. Vegeta stared in shock. He’d never seen _anyone_ cry before. Kakarot had always been emotional, hot-headed, and had a level of obsession with his family that made Vegeta’s skin crawl. Saiyan tears were reserved for great sorrow; as the saying went, ‘blood before tears’. Vegeta dropped his hands.

“Yes, but I didn’t know you had forgotten everything, or I never would have left you with him. I thought it was safer that he didn’t know anything about us but…” he paused, “You didn’t ever tell me, what happened to him? He wasn’t there when I came back for you.”

Kakarot frowned, “I don’t know, I think it must have been a monster. I woke up one morning outside and Grandpa was just gone. I wonder why I don’t remember that either,” he shuddered again, plucking his discarded blanket from the floor and pulling it over his shoulders.

Every muscle in Vegeta’s body stilled.

_Shouldn’t he remember everything now? Unless…_

“Kakarot \- was there a full moon the night the old man disappeared?” he asked, his voice so low it was nearly a hum.

Kakarot pursed his lips, scrunching his face in thought, “Uh, I think so? Yeah, I remember ‘cause I was gonna take a leak when I saw it, and - ” he froze, horror painting his face, “Vegeta I - I was the monster! I must have…by the _moon_ I forgot about the Oozaru!” his knuckles were white where he clenched the blanket.

Vegeta’s voice was gruff, “You didn’t know what you were doing. An unaided transformation at your age is never a pretty sight. Try not to dwell on it, it’ll only haunt you,” he hesitated, “trust me,” he shook his head as he moved to lie back down, “Your thoughts should be with your real family, anyway. And this really was the last time for that…freakish talent of yours. I don’t ever want to think about that stuff again.”

He thought Kakarot would protest, but he only gave a weary nod as he scooted back to his bed.

After a moment though, Kakarot spoke again, “Do ya think we’re the only ones left? Do ya suppose…they’re really all gone?”

 _What did I just say…_ Vegeta mentally cursed.

“I don’t know, Kakarot. You saw the others being sent out in pods, but I have no idea where. Freiza could have tracked them and…”

The possibility was too disgusting to speak aloud, but Kakarot did it for him.

“Killed them,” he said flatly.

Vegeta wished he were anywhere else; his feelings had been mixed up enough with him being around Bulma all day and now he’d relived losing his family twice.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to get strong enough to set out and look. _We_ will look. We don’t have to forget them. We won’t lose them, too.”

This time, Kakarot didn’t answer, and Vegeta sighed heavily, hoping it was the end of the matter. Eventually, sleep, and his nightmares found him.

* * *

Kakarot awoke to the delightful aroma of fluffy dough and sweetmeats. Vegeta was already absent from the bed next to him, and Kakarot scrambled into his clothes. He didn’t want to miss out on food, and he knew how much Vegeta could eat. His stomach grumbled at him in protest. Last night’s meal seemed like it was ages ago. Grabbing his Nyoibou from the small table, he slung it over his shoulder. He took a quick peek behind the neighboring screen, but the usually lazy Bulma was absent.

_Everyone is already awake…I must have been way more tired than I thought._

He paused at the end of the hallway, replaying the events of the previous mind. His family’s faces swam in front of his eyes, and his heart ached with the realization that he would face every breakfast for the rest of his life without them. The hum of voices became louder as he descended the ornately carved staircase, and the scent of food became stronger, comforting him from his morose thoughts.

Chi, Sumai, and Bulma sat along one side of the table, its edges now cleared of last night’s clutter to make room for piles of dishes heaped with food. Chi waved at him and broke into a smile, motioning for him to sit. His mouth watered at the sight. Earth food might not have been filling, but it was certainly more delicious than anything he’d ever had on Vegetasei. He noticed Vegeta and Yamcha sitting opposite the girls, as far apart from each other as they could get. He grinned.

Vegeta sat awkwardly on the cushioned floor, trying to maintain his usually haughty posture but failing miserably in the absence of a chair. He grunted as Kakarot thumped down between him and Yamcha, inhaling ravenously before reaching for a bowl piled high with rice. Before he could grab it though, he felt a sharp jab in his side from Vegeta.

“Let me,” he said shortly.

Kakarot stared, surprised, as Vegeta took the bowl and using a pointed pair of sticks piled some out into the bowl in front of Kakarot.

“Uhh, Vegeta, what’re you doin’?”

“Stopping you from embarrassing yourself,” he grumbled, “Now shut up and eat.”

Intrigued, Kakarot watched as Vegeta used the strange utensils to deftly stack buns, rice cakes, dumplings, steamed vegetables, and sliced fruit in front of him. He snuck a look around the table and realized everyone else was using the sticks to eat too.

_It must be an Earth custom._

He mused to himself. Shrugging, he wiped his hands and grabbed a bun, shoving the whole thing in his mouth.

“Mmm, Chi this is _so_ good!” Kakarot mumbled around a gooey mouthful.

Broth dribbled down his chin and he wiped it with the back of his hand, earning him a scolding from Bulma.

“Use your napkin!” she snapped, exasperated, before shaking her head and turning to Chi, “I think he might have literally never eaten at a table before I met him.”

To her surprise, Chi looked more amused than disgusted as she watched Kakarot over the rim of her teacup. Her fingers tightened around the delicate jade and Bulma realized she was trying not to laugh.

Chi set her tea down gently, a smile still tugging at her lips, “It is fine, I am pleased to see that he is enjoying himself. I would not expect one who is a stranger in our lands to know our customs. Besides, there have been many cultures throughout history that do not use tables when they take meals.”

Bulma looked embarrassed at the subtle reprimand.

“Hey, I’ve eaten at tables lots of times!” Kakarot protested before trying to swallow another enormous bite, “Just not with those weird sticks,” he added, nodding at Chi.

Yamcha shook his head and gave Kakarot a sly smile, “They’re called chopsticks, Kakarot, by Kami, you really _are_ an alien, aren’t you? Anyway, you say that, but Sumai and I have been roughing it in the woods and she’s got better table manners than you.”

Sumai groaned, dramatically rolling her eyes, “Please, not another word about table manners. You sound like my mother,” she twisted her face into a haughty stare, peering down her nose, “Keep your knees together! Only sip the tea, one must not gulp! One day you have to be a sorceress! Meh!” her voice was a shrill pitch.

Chi finally collapsed in laughter, “I am very glad to have been able to help you escape. It is not often we get visitors, in fact, no one has been here for years,” she wiped a tear from her eye and her gaze drifted to Kakarot, “It is a great pleasure to host you as my guests.”

Kakarot stopped mid-chew at her warm expression, his face flushing at the attention. It suddenly felt like everyone was aware of her looking at him, and he swallowed hard, his food a lump in his throat.

_Why is she looking at me like that?_

“Uh…thanks? Ow!” he rubbed his side where Vegeta had just elbowed him.

“We are equally grateful for your hospitality,” Vegeta hastily interrupted, “I’m sure Kakarot here will learn Earth’s customs in time, especially with such a gracious hostess as yourself.”

_What is he talking about?_

Kakarot thought, still confused. He noticed Sumai and Yamcha sharing a strange look, and they kept glancing at him sideways with poorly hidden smiles.

The front door opened, rescuing him from the awkward moment as Gyumao came in, six slain deer slung over his shoulder. He dropped them just outside the door before sitting down on the entry bench.

“Ahh!” his booming voice resonated in the room despite the clutter, “I see our guests have found their rest and meals to their liking. Good, good,” he nodded, satisfied, “Chi, I will see to the dinner preparation on my own. No need for you to leave our visitors unattended,” she nodded from her seat, her eyes still on Kakarot.

Yamcha stood, his knees banging on the edge of the table as he rose, “Let me help,” he offered, his voice eager with anticipation, “It is the least I can do.”

There was a pleading element to his voice, and after a moment’s hesitation Gyumao gave in, nodding as he slipped off his shoes.

“I suppose having a young set of hands couldn’t hurt. Do you know your way around a knife? Which end is the sharp one?” Gyumao asked, his face unreadable.

Seeing Yamcha’s step falter, he chuckled, “Lighten up, boy, only a jest. I wager you wouldn’t offer your assistance simply to make a fool of yourself.”

Gyumao pulled a rust-colored robe from the trunk at the door, tossing an identical at Yamcha. “Come, it’s impolite to keep the dead waiting,” he said with a wry grin.

They left as quickly as he had come in, the heavy door swinging shut easily in Gyumao’s hands.

Sumai shook her head as she sipped her tea, “Poor Yamcha, he’s really torn up about his family. I think he’s still trying to make up for his outburst last night.”

“He should not worry about my father,” Chi reassured her, “he is a just man, and will gladly accept such earnest remorse.”

Bulma nodded, her expression softening, “I can’t imagine losing my family like that,” she glanced at Vegeta and noting his stony face regretted her words, “Come on,” she began over brightly, “I don’t want to sour our day talking about such sad stuff.

She pushed her bowl to the side and began digging in her bag where it sat next to her. Her hands emerged with a fat leather book, the bulging cover held tight with a waxy string. She set it on the table with a thump after untying it and flipped open to an elaborate hand-drawn map spanning two pages.

“This is how I found the Dragon Balls in the first place,” she began.

“Wait,” Chi interrupted, “is this what Yamcha spoke of yesterday?” she scooted closer to Bulma to peer at the notebook, and Kakarot breathed a sigh of relief at her shifting attention.

He wanted to talk to her, she seemed nice enough, but had no idea what to say - and he couldn’t tell what she wanted, either. His ease settling back in, he shifted to pour himself more tea. Content to observe Chi from a distance, he went back to stuffing his face, relieved to see that unlike Bulma’s capsule house, there was plenty of delicious food. To his surprise, Vegeta spoke up, then.

“It is, but he shouldn’t have accused you like that.”

Annoyance was plain on Vegeta’s face, and Sumai blushed, clearly embarrassed at the mention of Yamcha’s outburst. The confirmation didn’t phase Chi, though, and she broke into a radiant smile that made Kakarot’s heart tumble in his chest. He realized he was staring and buried his eyes in his plate, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

Chi’s face was animated, “Please, speak no more of it – I recognize this drawing of the Dragon Balls. Might I see them?” she asked Bulma eagerly.

Bulma nodded, reaching beneath the table for her bag and handing Chi the four-star ball. Chi’s eyes lit up as she turned the ball in her hands.

“My mother had one of these! She kept it in her bedroom…she used to tell me stories of how the balls used to be used to bring about great peace and prosperity. I always wondered if they were true,” she handed it back to Bulma before picking the journal back up, “How did you find this?”

Bulma replaced the Dragon Ball. “My parents have traveled their whole lives and are always bringing back fascinating artifacts,” she gave a small laugh, “The problem with my father is he can never finish a project, so all his curiosities wind up sitting in his lab storage. I was bored and hoping for some alien tech to tinker with, but I found this instead.”

Chi nodded slowly, “I wish that I could help, but you have seen the fire demon that guards the palace. The flames cannot be braved, I’m afraid.”

At the mention of the fire demon, Kakarot looked up from eating and saw the happiness drain out of Bulma’s eyes at Chi’s apology.

 _All she’s talked about since we met her is those Dragon Balls, this is really important to her._ Pushing aside his trepidation, he spoke up, addressing Chi.

“Are ya sure we can’t do anything? Vegeta and I are awful strong, and we fought a lot of monsters,” he nudged Vegeta, “Tell her, Vegeta. We can fight that fire demon, right?”

Vegeta cleared his throat roughly and drew himself up as best as he could from his seat on the floor.

“It is true, we have defended Bulma here several times since we met,” he placed a hand on Kakarot’s shoulder, a hint of pride creeping into his voice, “Kakarot here is a Child of Proving, and I am The Prince of Saiyans. If anyone can take on this fire demon monster, it’s us.”

Chi looked uncertainly at Bulma, who shrugged at her, “I suppose it would be worth the try.” She said slowly, “I am not familiar with your title, but it should not be long before my father returns with Yamcha. Perhaps you would like to offer your assistance to him yourself, Kakarot?” she asked, blushing as she addressed him.

His shyness dissipating in the face of a potential fight, Kakarot grinned at her, “They sent me to a planet when I was a baby ‘cause they thought I would be weak and die. But I showed ‘em!” he pumped his fist in the air, putting on a determined face.

Sumai choked on her tea and coughed, spluttering, “I’m sorry, they did _what_?”

Vegeta nodded, his serious face showing confusion at her reaction, “Of course, he’s the first to survive in 300 years. But that’s what makes him a Child of Proving,” he tossed his head, “Much like anyone can be a Prince, but I am _the_ Prince of Saiyans.”

Bulma held her hand up, “Go back to the part where you sent Kakarot on a death mission - as a baby?!”

Vegeta stared at her blankly, “Well, what do you humans do with your weak children? Kakarot’s parents produced an inferior offspring. We couldn’t allow the Saiyan race to suffer because of that.”

“We don’t do anything with them!” Sumai was looking at Kakarot intently, her face a mixture of curiosity and horror, “Are you sure you wanna be friends with this guy?” she asked him, arching an eyebrow and motioning to Vegeta.

Kakarot stretched and patted his stomach contentedly, “Of course I wanna be friends with him, me ‘n Vegeta have good times,” he noticed Chi looking at him strangely again.

She looked impressed, he thought, or interested?

“I see. So you and Vegeta here are companions of rank, then.”

The tone of the room shifted and Kakarot noticed Vegeta lean forward, almost imperceptibly. “We are. Kakarot’s family was elevated in honor of his feat,” he hesitated a moment, “In fact, Kakarot’s father was already well respected in his own right as a warrior - even if of a lower rank.” he said the last bit in a hurry.

Chi smiled warmly at Kakarot, dazzling him, “How lovely for your family. They must be very proud of you.”

Vegeta had gone completely rigid, losing the comfortability he’d gained as they spoke. Kakarot felt his heart stop in his chest and his blood roared in his head. Chi’s smile had disappeared by the time he answered.

“They were,” he said, his voice small again.

For several moments, no one spoke. Kakarot felt sick and wished for the first time in his life that he hadn’t eaten.

Chi looked horrified, “I am so sorry,” she delicately clasped her hands over her mouth, “I should not have spoken without knowing,” she murmured.

Bulma spoke up, her voice gentle, “Kakarot and Vegeta lost their home to a…” she hesitated, looking at Vegeta for a cue.

Her sentence seemed to shake the spell from him and his eyes narrowed.

“He was an egotistical maniac obsessed with the power he couldn’t have. He destroyed our planet, and others, and Kakarot and I would like _very_ much if you all quit bringing it up,” he bit off the last of his words.

Kakarot forced himself to breathe, fighting the urge to get up and bolt outside at the reminder of his loss.

 _Maybe I should have forgotten forever._ He thought.

The front door banged open again, and he jumped at the interruption. Gyumao and Yamcha were grinning widely at one another, clearly in the midst of some humor. The amusement dropped from their faces as they noticed the frigid tone of the room.

“Has something gone awry?” he asked, concerned.

Chi hurried to her feet, “Everything is fine, Father. Vegeta here was just telling us a bit about his people. He and Kakarot have offered their aid to defeat our fire demon. They are renowned warriors of high station on their home planet; Vegeta is their prince.”

“It’s _the_ Prince of Saiyans…” Kakarot heard him mutter under his breath.

Vegeta cast a disparaging glare at Yamcha, who looked like he was trying not to laugh. Gyumao raised an eyebrow and turned to look closer at them. Trying to keep his breakfast in his stomach and calm his nerves, Kakarot met Gyumao’s eyes. The searching became a probe and then a glare, taking Kakarot by surprise.

“Boy, where did you get that Nyoibou?” he asked, his voice commanding.

Kakarot had a memory flash of Nappa cracking him with his tail.

 _Boy, stop dawdling._ The older Saiyan’s voice rang in his head.

Kakarot made certain to steady his voice, “Grandpa Gohan gave it to me.”

The giant eyebrows went up again, and Kakarot wished the man would make up his mind on whether or not to be upset.

“Gohan! Are you a student of his, then?”

Kakarot frowned, “I guess so - he did teach me some. Vegeta ‘n my ships crashed, Grandpa Gohan found us ‘n helped us get better. But he didn’t really teach me to fight, just about meditating and entropy.”

Gyumao looked confused until Vegeta spoke up, rolling his eyes.

“Empathy, Kakarot.”

Kakarot nodded and continued, “Yeah, that. Anyway, he gave me this to hunt with. I didn’t really need it but I didn’t think it would be very nice to turn down a gift.”

Yamcha turned to Gyumao, “I’ve sparred with Kakarot, he’s strong for sure.”

“He would have to be, for a renowned master like Gohan to take him in. Gohan and I trained together, long ago as children, under the great Turtle Hermit Roshi,” Gyumao said.

“The Turtle Hermit!” Bulma exclaimed, “We met him, he gave us a Dragon Ball!”

Gyumao looked surprised, “You met him you say? Why, I haven’t seen the Turtle Hermit Master myself in many many years,” he stroked his chin thoughtfully, “I know you boys are strong, but even I am no match for that demon. I’ve tried several times to approach the palace and you can just feel the power emanating from him,” he turned to Kakarot, “What do you say about going to ask Master Roshi if he would come and help us defeat the fire demon, together?”

Chi spoke up quickly, “I will go with Kakarot, Father. I should offer a gift as a token of our appreciation. Perhaps that will sway him.”

Gyumao nodded, “That’s a splendid idea. Tell him he and I can discuss compensation when he arrives. Why don’t you take Icarus, so the two of you will make better time? He’s still faster than any of the vehicles.”

Kakarot piped up, excited, “We can race each other there! I have my Kinto Un he gave me!”

Gyumao shook his head, “It seems you boys are continually full of surprises,” he nodded at Chi. “Go then, daughter. Tell Master Roshi we await his arrival.”

Kakarot lost no time scrambling up from the table, making a beeline for the door and stuffing his feet into his shoes.

* * *

Yamcha sat next to Sumai, her tiny hand in his. Gyumao poured tea for both of them, releasing a sweet earthy smell as steam rose from the cups.

“You asked to speak with me about something important, but I prefer a more informal setting.” Gyumao said as he poured, “I hope you can understand,” he poured for himself before setting the pot back down on its filigreed trivet, “Now, what was it you wished to discuss?”

Yamcha took a deep breath, “I want there to be peace between us, even though it couldn’t be achieved with our people,” he hesitated. “I’d like to give them peace in death since they couldn’t find it in life.”

Gyumao nodded, folding his massive hands on top of the table, “You are truly wise beyond your years. It would seem that though the life you have lived has been hard, it has shaped you well.”

Yamcha felt his voice crack and his throat tingle and swell. He reached for Sumai through the bond, seeking the warmth of her reassurance. She gave him a small encouraging smile, and he spoke again.

“I just don’t know how to move on from this. I went so long believing such horrible things – it was like it consumed me,” his voice wavered, but he pressed on, determined, “I feel like I’ve lost my family all over again and I…don’t know what to do with myself now. I thought that an apology might be a good place to start.”

For a long moment, Gyumao was silent. Yamcha twisted his hands in his lap, miserably wishing he would say something, anything.

 _Calm_. Sumai’s voice whispered on the edge of his mind.

When Gyumao spoke again his voice was slow, serious, “You cannot keep living in the past. These…” he gestured vaguely with his hand, “ghosts, you’re holding on to – you must learn to let them go. You cannot change them, nor can you change your past choices. Until you are able to do that, whatever path lies in front of you will not be clear.”

“But where will I go? What am I supposed to do now?” Yamcha’s tone was one of utter defeat, and he hung his head low, “I don’t know if I can go back…to the forest. Not after what I know,” he waited what seemed like an eternity for Gyumao to answer, hopelessness creeping behind him like a storm about to break.

“You should stay here,” Gyumao said suddenly, “This mountain is as much your home as it is mine – it is your right to live here.”

Hope swelled in Yamcha’s heart.

_Home._

He hadn’t felt like he was home in so many years. He wondered what it would feel like to be in the same four walls every day. Even just last night, the opportunity to be inside in a real bed had been nearly overwhelming. He’d eventually given it up to stretch out on the cool wooden floor.

He felt a gentle nudge from Sumai at the corner of his mind.

“I…I guess I don’t know what to say.”

 _Say thank you._ Came the gentle scold.

Yamcha smiled slightly at first, then wider as he sat up straight, “Thank you, Gyumao. I’d love to stay here.”

Gyumao broke into a wide smile, “Wonderful! Sumai, you are welcome to stay here with Yamcha, if you wish. May our people be as one, from this day forward.”

* * *

“I win!” Chi cried, whooping gleefully as she circled the tiny island with Icarus, slowing his flight.

She landed solidly on the sand and Icarus tossed his head arrogantly as she murmured words of praise and scratched behind his horns.

Kakarot hopped off Kinto Un, grinning ruefully, “I guess you ride him a lot, huh? You’re really good! I bet I’d beat you if I had more practice on Kinto Un here!”

She laughed, and Kakarot suddenly felt like he’d say anything to hear that musical noise again, “I do not think so, for Icarus and I have flown together for many moons. When we are in the air, we are as one.”

Kakarot nodded, understanding. The more time he and Vegeta spent together – fighting, training, living – he felt like they were connected in some way. Even their time apart when he was with Gohan had not lessened it, and last night’s memories had brought it back to the forefront of his mind in full force.

A familiar, cranky voice called out through the open window, “Say, who’s there!?”

Kakarot recognized the Turtle Hermit and called out, “It’s me, Kakarot! And I brought a visitor with me!”

The front door opened and Roshi stepped out, putting on a pair of gaudy sunglasses, “Why hello! Oh my, what could such a beautiful young lady want to visit an old man like me for?”

Chi tilted her head at him, then looked at Kakarot questioningly. He shrugged, not understanding Roshi’s odd questioning either.

“We need your help,” he piped up.

“My father and I – it’s about our palace,” Chi elaborated.

She quickly summed up the curse and the fire demon, ending by mentioning Kakarot’s offer for him and Vegeta to help fight it.

“But Father says we could never do it without you. I would like to formally request your aid, as the Princess of Fa Pan and the official representative of the Ox-King of Fa Pan. Father has agreed to discuss terms of compensation upon your arrival.”

Roshi held his hands up, “Slow down, there now. Your father is Gyumao? Well, why didn’t you say so from the start? So, you’re Princess Chi, eh?”

She inclined her head gracefully, nodding, “Apologies, Turtle Hermit, but I recognized you right away from Father’s stories. I forget that you have not seen each other in many years. He is very much anticipating seeing you again.”

Stretching his arms over his head, Roshi cracked his shoulders, lazily rolling his neck, “Please, call me Roshi. Ahhh, I suppose I could come by and speak to him,” he stroked his mustaches, “A fire demon, you say?” Chi nodded and Roshi sighed again, “A cursed demon is no easy matter. And you say this young boy and his friend think they can defeat it?”

Kakarot protested loudly, “Hey! Vegeta ‘n I are strong!”

Roshi chuckled, “Oh, of that I have no doubt. But it takes a great deal of cunning to defeat a cursed entity, especially if they don’t want to go,” He adjusted the sunglasses, leaning forward on his walking stick.

Kakarot felt as if his eyes boring holes into his very soul.

“Say, you’re that same monkey kid from before – with the pretty purple-haired girl and that grumpy friend of yours.”

Kakarot nodded, “Yeah that’s Vegeta and Bulma, they’re my friends. Vegeta’s even stronger than me, if you come help, we’ll defeat that mean ol’ demon for sure!”

Roshi hummed thoughtfully to himself, and Kakarot wondered why everyone seemed to think he and Vegeta were so weak. On one hand, he felt it would be rude to brag about his and Vegeta’s exploits during their time in Freiza’s service. On the other, since arriving at Earth he’d felt like a child, with everyone warning him not to fight things or say stuff.

_I should ask Vegeta._

Roshi finally spoke again, “I suppose we shall see when I get there – maybe I will need your help after all,” he turned back to Chi, “Well, you’ll have to give me a bit to prepare. Let your father know I will be there this afternoon. I couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity to catch up with an old student, especially if it means reminded him of how I’m still stronger.“

Kakarot shifted his weight impatiently, eyeing Kinto Un, “Come on, Chi, let’s go tell your dad. I wanna race again, and this time _I’m_ gonna win!”

Chi laughed gaily, “You are in a rush to be beaten sorely again. I never lose!” Mounting Icarus gracefully, she gave Roshi a wave, “Thank you, Turtle Hermit! I will return and prepare for your arrival!”

* * *

The dark ochre of the village street gave way to dusty white and black stone, spanning a huge round plaza. The elegant pattern bricked into it was precise if worn; a black and white teardrop shape, each one juxtaposed against the other to form a perfect circle. High walls framed the base of the mountain, another set of gates between them that was as wide as pair guarding the entrance to the village.

To the left, and to the right, four more avenues of buildings stretched wide, each empty house and shop as ghostly as the next. Clearly, at one point the village had been a great hub of commerce. Now, all that remained were dead wilted branches, devoid of any leaves. They tumbled across the streets, rolling and swirling in tiny eddies of dust as the scorching wind crept across the ground. It offered no relief, and Vegeta felt himself start to sweat. Oddly, it seemed that neither the palace itself nor the buildings around it were actually consumed by the flames. Roshi waved at them to fall back as he headed slowly toward the gate.

He squinted at the fire demon, shielding his eyes with his hands, “You’re not cursed,” he called back to them, “I can feel that much. It was broken sometime this morning. What did you do?”

Gyumao opened his mouth to answer, but Roshi ignored him, continuing, “It doesn’t want to leave now, though - it seems like it’s grown fond of the palace. You boys should stand back – leave this to the master.” He shook his gnarled fist at the demon, “You’re a lousy houseguest, overstaying your welcome! Shame on you!”

As if to punctuate his statement, the fire demon grumbled, shaking the ground. The flames pooled together, forming a vague pair of glowing eyes and a mouth.

“ _MINE!”_ it roared, sending a searing cloud of dust flying across the courtyard.

Vegeta threw up his arm in front of his face, his eyes stinging from the onslaught.

“What is that!?” Chi cried out in horror, “It speaks!”

Roshi chuckled, setting his staff to lean against the wall, “Oh, so you’re a stubborn one, then?”

He continued to mock the demon as he slowly unbuttoned his jacket, folding it neatly and placing it on the ground, “I think you’re too frightened to come down and fight me. Maybe I should bring the fight to you?”

He called back to where Sumai and Bulma stood next to each other, wiggling his eyebrows lasciviously, “Say how about you ladies blow an old man a good luck kiss?”

Sumai snorted, tossing her head, “Why don’t you ask the demon for one instead?”

“Ahh, it was worth a try,” Roshi merely grinned turning back to the gate and planting his feet firmly on the ground, “Stand back,” he warned, “this could get ugly.”

Reluctantly, Gyumao ushered them further back, all the way now to the edge of the plaza at its back wall. Vegeta crossed his arms, still unimpressed at this short scrawny human.

_He’ll need our help, just wait and see._

Still, he thought, he should pay attention. The memory of his shameful defeat at old Gohan’s hands still rankled in his mind, and he thought it best not to make the same mistake twice. It appeared Earth’s fighters had bizarre power limits, and more so, the ability to disguise them.

He blinked in disbelief at Roshi as the man slowly moved through the same odd motions Kakarot had practiced each morning. But something felt…different. Like the air around them had gradually been getting heavier.

The muscles on the old man’s back began to ripple, then grow explosively, spreading across his body and to his limbs as he grew right before Vegeta’s eyes.

_A human transformation!?_

He frowned, remembering his father’s reassurance that Earth was a low power planet. Surely their scanners would not have made a mistake, he thought. Roshi grew larger, taller until his once baggy pants strained to contain the bulging legs beneath them.

To Vegeta’s astonishment, ki began emanating from Roshi. He glanced next to him at Kakarot, who was staring intently at the impressive display before them.

_He must feel it too. Damn I wish I had my scouter. His power level must be incredible._

Bulma and Sumai were peeking out from behind either side of Yamcha, who looked very much like he wished to hide as well. The demon roared and the onlookers covered their ears against the rumbling onslaught.

“ _INTRUDERS!”_ the voice grated, sounding like rocks crumbling.

Flames licked at the sky as the demon flared in size. The air became an oven and Vegeta felt himself struggling to breathe as the oxygen was sucked from the atmosphere. Bulma and Yamcha coughed, and even Gyumao’s breathing became labored and raspy as they watched the confrontation. The wide gates slammed open from the sudden wave of intense heat, flying free of their fastenings and splintering against the rock wall. Debris flew in every direction, stinging Vegeta’s skin.

The dirt and debris kept flying as the power that had steadily risen around Roshi had begun to condense in his hands, forming a white and blue swirling ball that reminded Vegeta eerily of his own ki blasts.

_It’s not a defense like Gohan, he’s attacking it straight away!_

Grimly, he felt a bit relieved he hadn’t attempted to challenge the old man’s prowess. Roshi faced the demon down, his arms twisting in concentric circles before coming together. Vegeta recognized the stance as almost identical to Gohan’s and braced himself. The demon drew itself up growling again.

“ _INFERIOR!”_ it screamed.

A flurry of fireballs sailed towards Roshi, but seemed to dissipate a short distance from his body, hissing and steaming.

He grinned, taunting the demon, “You demons are all the same – whiny and single-minded. Why don’t you give me something more than some hot words?”

It howled in sheer rage, shifting its shape. What had been a burning orb with a face became a colossal head, torso, and arms. Its lower half remained a mass of flames that trailed off like a tail behind it as it raced down the steps. As the demon reached a fiery hand towards the gate, the brilliant white-blue light exploded from Roshi’s hands.

“KA-ME-HA-ME-HAAAAAAAA!” he bellowed.

The radiant light engulfed the demon, sending it spiraling upward as it shrieked and howled in pain. Rising higher and higher in the sky, the column of light flew in an arc to chase the fleeing demon, twisting into a vortex of heat and air. The sudden sensation of mist on his skin and salt in his nose took Vegeta by surprise as the funneling flames threw out huge gusts of wind.

The demon’s screams were swallowed by the light and the increasing volume of Roshi’s yell, until the monster disappeared entirely in a flash of blinding light in the sky. It was then he realized that the blast was more than just ki – it was ki that had somehow been transformed into water and wind.

A torrent of water fell from the sky where the demon had cried its last, dumping on top of the palace with a thunderous crash. It rushed down the steps and cascaded over the jagged mountain, but the parched earth snagged every droplet, drinking the liquid up greedily within seconds. By the time the deluge reached the now destroyed gate, it was barely a trickle dripping off the bottom step.

Roshi’s massive muscular form had vanished, and he was left bent over with his hands on his knees, panting and dripping sweat.

He turned to them, scratching his head and grinning sheepishly, “Whoops, lost a little control of the water there at the end,” he called out, “Seems I’m a bit rusty from not practicing.”

Gyumao and Chi were clapping, cheering for Roshi as he made his way over to them. Vegeta still felt frozen where he stood. He looked around at Yamcha, Sumai, and Bulma, who wore the same shocked expression he was sure he had. Kakarot, however, looked deep in concentration, frowning as he mouthed words silently to himself.

Vegeta jumped as something brushed his arm. He gave a sigh of relief as Bulma slipped from her hiding spot behind Yamcha to stand next to him.

“What is he doing?” she asked, her voice low, “He’s not trying to copy the Turtle Hermit, is he?”

_That’s exactly what he’s doing._

Vegeta didn’t voice the thought, holding his breath as Kakarot closed his eyes, frozen for a moment. Kakarot had been forced to rely on his brute strength alone during all their missions together. For whatever reason, the ki blasts the Saiyans summoned up so easily just wouldn’t come to him. It made his status as a Child of Proving all that more impressive, but Vegeta could sense Kakarot’s determination this time.

_Why now, of all times?_

Kakarot breathed in deeply, slowly and clumsily repeating Roshi’s earlier yell, “Kaaaa-meeee-haaaa-meee-haa!” He shouted.

A small, but concentrated light burst forth from his palms, smashing easily through the wall across the courtyard, and landing with a distant explosion down an empty village avenue. As abruptly as the beam began, it was gone. Vegeta hurried over to Kakarot as he swayed dizzily, panting. It took mere seconds for everyone else to clamor around them, asking unending questions. Roshi pushed through them, shushing their excited chatter.

He wore an exhausted, but wide grin, “My boy, I haven’t seen anyone new use my technique in many, _many_ years. You seem familiar with the Turtle Form, even if your balance is terrible.”

Gyumao grinned widely, “Old friend, you won’t believe this, but apparently young Kakarot here was a pupil of Gohan’s. The boys here are from an alien planet, and Gohan saved them from the crash site of their ships.”

Roshi’s eyes widened, then narrowed quickly as his gaze snapped to Kakarot, “A pupil of Gohan’s, you say? He insisted that he and the other boy were strong, but he never mentioned Gohan,” he looked thoughtful for a moment, “Yes…that does explain some things…whatever happened to old Gohan, anyway?”

“He died in an accident,” Vegeta interjected quickly, giving a warning glance to Kakarot, “Kakarot was asleep, and I was…out. Gohan must have gone out for something and run into a monster of some sort.”

Kakarot nodded slowly, “We never saw him again after that.”

Roshi frowned, “I warned him. Gohan, he – ” he stopped, shaking his head as if reconsidering whatever he had intended to say, “Never mind that,” he knelt down to meet Kakarot at eye level and removed his sunglasses, placing a hand on the young Saiyan’s shoulder, “It is never good for a pupil to lose his master, especially before training is complete. Gohan was an excellent teacher in his own right, but his death leaves behind unfinished work. You should return with me to my island, and I will take up instructing you in his stead.”

Vegeta could practically see the stars light up in Kakarot’s eyes at the offer. Jealousy twinged in his chest, sending chills down his spine and tail.

“The old man saved both of us, you know. Kakarot and I came here together,” he muttered.

Roshi dropped his hand from Kakarot’s shoulder and stood, pointing at Vegeta, “You may have been there, but you were not his pupil – and you won’t be mine.”

The words cut Vegeta like a knife, and he thought he would boil over with rage. To have been humiliated by Gohan, only to now be spurned by the man’s teacher – it was almost too much to bear.

Roshi continued, “It’s very clear to me that while you possess great talent and strength, you can’t be taught. You are not ready to receive instruction. Not yet,” his face impassive as a mountain.

_Fuck this._

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, his hands clenching into fists, “Whatever, old man,” he fixed an accusing glare on Kakarot and Roshi, “This is good, Kakarot. Go train. Go get strong like _humans,_ ” he spat the last word.

Kakarot spluttered protests as Vegeta shot up from the ground and took off in flight.

“And don’t follow me!” Vegeta yelled behind him.

He needed to get away, somewhere, anywhere. He couldn’t take another moment staring at Kakarot’s delighted face, salivating over this outsider’s “training” as if it were the universe’s best offer.

_What about our training?_

Bitterness filled him. He flew faster, wanting to put at much distance between them as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a completely fan-made work and is not officially affiliated in any way with or endorsed by the Dragon Ball universe, franchise, films, manga, tv specials or games. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, Dragon Ball Super, and all associated franchises are the property of Akira Toriyama, Fuji TV, Toei Animation, Funimation, and their respective creators, writers, artists & publishers. Please support the official release.


	9. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta must come to terms with how Earth has changed Kakarot.

Bulma flew low over the trees in a one-person airship, squinting through her goggles as the wind whipped her hair around. The lush foliage made the air sweet and cool, a welcome relief from the sweltering Mt. Fa Pan. She had wasted no time going after Vegeta, despite Kakarot’s protests insisting he would be mad if she went. The ship was tiny and cramped, one her father and made for her as a child - one she stubbornly refused to let go of, instead continually repairing it.

She’d made major modifications to the ship last year, fitting it with infrared heat sensors to track the wild animals she was studying. Now, it tracked one very grumpy Saiyan prince as he sped across the forest. Bulma kept her distance, letting him disappear into a near speck at the edge of her vision so as not to give away her pursuit.

Thankfully, he’d maintained an almost perfectly straight line, and she set the ship on autopilot as she quickly assembled the rifle she’d looted from the smuggler’s plane. If anything came after her once she landed, they were in for a nasty surprise. Normally, Bulma understood and respected the need for space. But something about Vegeta’s behavior had been off all morning. He’d come down without Kakarot, unusual in and of itself since the Prince’s eyes seemed to always be on his younger companion.

He’d then waxed grandiose when talking to Chi, practically shoving Kakarot at her like a clumsy wingman, and then dropped bomb after bomb about strange Saiyan traditions. Something had happened between the two boys, she just knew it. Vegeta’s obvious jealousy and his outburst were the last straw. It was time to get some answers out of him, whether he liked it or not.

Vegeta dipped below the trees and Bulma narrowed her eyes, locking her navigation to his estimated coordinates. Slowing the ship as much as she could, she drifted the rest of the distance before killing the engines and activating a gravity field landing in a small opening between a dense copse of pines. A snap ahead caught her ear as she climbed out of the ship, and Vegeta came into view, glaring at her fiercely.

“I said don’t follow me,” he snapped.

His voice was muffled by the dense vegetation, quiet and hard. The tip of his tail twitched and Bulma tried not to stare. It still unnerved her. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, stopping on the opposite side of the clearing.

“Too bad. I’m here anyway. You can’t just stomp off and pout like that, bottling everything up inside.”

He looked away pointedly and grunted, “Tch. What do you care?”

She sighed, exasperated, and sat down on the ground, “Look, you’re possibly the most arrogant person I’ve ever met, and I spend a lot of time looking in the mirror. But you jump at every little noise, you’re suspicious of everything - ” she hesitated, “and I’ve never heard someone tossing and turning in their sleep like you. I’m surprised you haven’t murdered a pillow yet. So, I’m going to sit here, whether you like it or not, until you’re ready to crack.”

He stared at her in surprise, expecting more, but she merely crossed her legs and settled back against the trunk of a tree before closing her eyes. Reluctantly, he remained where he stood, digging furrows into the soft earth with the heels of his boots. A bird called somewhere behind him, and he fought the urge to tilt his head in the direction of the sound.

 _You jump at every little noise_.

The coppery smell of blood filled his nose as her words echoed in his head, stinging him. The accusation hurt, mostly because it was true. He was afraid, even if he would never admit it to anyone.

 _Not even her?_ He pushed the thought away.

Nappa was the only person who had ever had the nerve to challenge him in this way, and he found himself incredibly taken aback by it coming from this Earth woman whose power level was barely a blip. Her constant attitude and confidence reminded Vegeta of an apex predator – an admirable comparison he’d kept stuffed in a quiet corner of his mind. But now, he felt like the prey, and it was unnerving. She was too perceptive, and her ability to undress him emotionally made him feel…vulnerable.

The sun filtered through the trees, scattering shadows across the ground as it moved through the sky. The trees had littered the forest floor with slender needle-like leaves, creating a soft cushion. The only downside was the occasional poke as he shifted to get comfortable. Surely, Bulma would get bored, he thought. He would just wait for her to get tired, he decided, and then she’d leave in her ship and everything would be fine.

 _Until you have to go back tonight,_ he thought.

For a moment, Vegeta very nearly considered the possibility of sleeping on the ground.

_And then what?_

Reluctantly, he cast the idea aside. Hours passed, yet Bulma still sat silently against her tree. From time to time, she would pull a small notebook out of her pocket and scribble something, then go back to looking around the forest or resting her eyes. It was maddening. Vegeta felt he had many virtues, but patience was not among them.

Memories of Kakarot, their time together, their fights and losses - and their crash on Earth, consumed him. He tried to calm his mind, but a single thought continued to rise above the rest until he was sure his tongue would speak on his own. He picked up a small rock and began anxiously palming it between his hands.

“I…” he began, prompting Bulma to open her eyes.

Vegeta sighed heavily, “Kakarot may be all I have now. The last time we parted ways I came back and he lost nearly all his memories of his life before Earth. He didn’t even recognize me at first.”

Bulma stretched her legs out in front of her, but still merely listened. Vegeta rolled the stone in his palm between his fingers in frustration, struggling to sort his thoughts before closing his fist until powder erupted between his knuckles. Forcing his mouth to work, he continued.

“Kakarot has some…some kind of ability. I wouldn’t have believed it if I weren’t there when it happened. He can…read memories, I guess is how to put it. I let him read mine last night and I helped him remember his life,” he hesitated, “People talk, spread rumors you know,’ he waved his hand and his gaze turned distant, “But I’d heard some of the other warriors saying Bardock - Kakarot’s father had some kind of telepathy too.“

His gaze sharpened again as he looked up at her, his dark eyes haunted, “There’s something Kakarot doesn’t know. Before my father won his title as King, he and Kakarot’s father were close – best friends really,” admiration shone in his voice, “My father wasn’t the kind to care about station, and Kakarot’s father saved him many times when they were very young. But the duties of being King kept them apart more and more. By the time I was born, they hadn’t spoken in many years,” he swallowed hard, his voice bitter, ‘I don’t…I won’t let that happen with Kakarot and me. Especially if he’s all I have now.“

“Vegeta,” Bulma finally began, her voice soft, “Just because they didn’t speak doesn’t mean there were hard feelings between them. Given what little I know of Kakarot, if his father is anything like him, he wouldn’t hold responsibility against your father. I get the sense that honor is very important to Saiyans, is that true?”

Vegeta nodded tersely, and she continued, “So, wouldn’t a best friend understand that responsibility has to come first?” she waited expectantly, but he didn’t answer, “Look, I understand that you’ve been through an incredibly traumatic event. You lost your entire planet - and I can’t even begin to imagine what you must feel like.”

He snorted, “No, you really can’t.”

Ignoring his outburst she pressed on, “This is good for Kakarot. He’s younger than you, he needs stability. This is him making friends, he’s working towards something and learning something valuable. If he’s going to heal - if either of you is going to heal - you have to learn to live again.”

“What I now live for,” he growled, his tail bristling in anger, “is hunting down that bastard Freiza and making him pay. I’ll kill him myself if I have to search every planet in the galaxy.”

“And then what?” she accused.

He opened his mouth to reply but realized he didn’t have a response.

 _Then what?_ The annoying thought taunted him again.

She stood suddenly, brushing the dirt from her clothes, “I see you haven’t thought about this. Maybe now you will. Kakarot is clearly trying to build more than just a revenge plan. I’d follow his example if I were you.”

Vegeta ripped a handful of pine needles from the floor, twisting them in frustration. He wanted to argue with her, but he knew the truth she spoke was one he had been trying to avoid. What would he do after he killed Freiza? It wouldn’t bring his family back, and he realized without revenge or family he had nothing to live for. The thought chilled him and he cleared his throat.

“I’m done talking. We should be getting back, soon.”

Bulma looked like she was going to argue with him, but to his relief instead nodded, “Fine, but you’ll have to fly on your own, my ship isn’t big enough for both of us.”

* * *

Back at Gyumao’s house, a roaring fire crackled on the hearth, warding off the chill that would come with nightfall. Kakarot lounged lazily on the floor, his elbows propped up and his chin in his hands, his tail lazily curling back and forth. He let his eyes drift over the dancing flames, imagining shapes, and people in them. The smell of savory broth filled the house, and Chi periodically rose from her book to stir the massive pot over the fire, or add a pinch of something from the maze of tiny drawered boxes mounted to the wall.

On the other end of the room, Gyumao and Roshi sat on a bench, sharing a large jug between the two of them as they quietly spoke. The occasional burst of laughter from them and Chi’s additions to the cooking pot were the only thing to break his deep, almost meditative-like state. Sumai and Yamcha sat across the room on cushions, quietly talking.

The front door creaking open broke the spell of quiet, and every eye in the room turned to look. A diminutive woman stood on the threshold, dark tawny skin stretched smooth over high cheekbones and a petite jaw. She was clad in voluminous black robes that hid her feet, and her elaborately braided and piled hair nearly doubled her height. A twisted green ring encircled three fingers of her left hand, in which she held a gnarled staff. Her voice was high-pitched and rich, almost slimy.

“Oooh it seems I’ve just missed all the fun.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Baba, the great magician. Don’t you have some poor fool to be robbing of his last zenni, sister?” Roshi’s tone was taunting.

Sumai gasped, whirling at the visitor, “Mother! What are you doing here? And this is your brother?” she gestured at Roshi.

Gyumao had risen from the bench as soon as she came through the doors and now stepped in front of all of them, towering over the diminutive woman as he greeted her, “I have no quarrel with you, great Seeress. What business brings you to Fa Pan?”

Bold, thick brows separated in an amused arch as Baba stared up at the mountain of a man in front of her, “Seeress? My, aren’t we perceptive? At least someone here recognizes me.”

Gyumao’s face remained serious. “Your name is renowned throughout the East as a seer, I could not forget it if I tried.”

“I’ve come to check up on my daughter,” she said smoothly, the expression of her dark amber eyes never changing.

Roshi snorted. “Still the hovering hen, I see.”

Baba laughed, and a muffled tinkling sound of jewelry came from beneath her robes.

“And you’ve become a doddering geezer in your old age, brother. Struggling to maintain such a small amount of water in your ki…shameful, really.”

She didn’t walk, as far as Kakarot could see. She…glided around Gyumao to where Sumai sat. “I simply did not trust my daughter’s safety to you.” she crooned, reaching to caress Sumai’s hair with her free hand.

“I’m fine, mother,” Sumai grumbled, pulling away from the touch in embarrassment, “You don’t have to keep showing up – nothing is going to happen to me.”

Yamcha scooted closer to Sumai, frowning and putting a protective arm around her waist.

“What are you laughing at?” Baba snapped at Roshi, who was grinning widely at her when she pulled back from Sumai.

“Oh, nothing. Just that you showed up here, went through all this trouble and we don’t need you. See? There’s no coin for you to sniff out here, no petty magician’s tricks we need help with.”

Baba’s eyes flashed and she drew herself up, “Am I supposed to believe you defeated it out of the goodness of your heart? You didn’t insist on being paid?”

Roshi looked flustered, “Well, we actually hadn’t discussed that yet.“

Her voice had dropped its wheedling tone and was cold, “And I told you, I am not a _magician_. I am a _practitioner_. You think you’ve solved the last of the problems here?” she snorted, narrowing her gaze and pointing at Roshi, “You saw this village, it’s practically a tomb.” ahe glared at Gyumao, “You are the king of a graveyard. I watched as you offered my daughter a place to stay, and thought I would graciously use my magical talent to bring life to this place in return for you protecting her. But I will not stay where I’m not welcome.”

The head of her long staff slammed into the floor, echoing like a thunderclap despite her small stature.

“There,” she said icily, “My debt is repaid.”

As quickly as she came, she vanished into the air, leaving a shimmering afterimage in her wake.

Everyone turned to stare at Sumai, who squirmed under the attention.

“Uh…moms, right?” she joked, shrugging sheepishly.

“What on Earth was she talking about?” Chi asked, still bewildered, “What did she even want?”

Yamcha spoke up, “A bear attacked our campsite once - and Baba just poof! Took Sumai. I thought my heart would stop, but not even a minute went by and she reappeared right back in front of me.”

Sumai groaned, leaning her head against the wall, “I’m so embarrassed - this is ridiculous! She’s so overprotective of me and it always is at the worst times,” she looked up at Roshi and frowned, “And you didn’t help! What was with all that teasing? And you’re her brother?”

“Ahh…” Roshi trailed off uncertainly, “Yes?”

The room’s attention turned him, and he tugged at his mustaches nervously.

“Oh, all right, fine. I admit I shouldn’t have needled her like that. But she wouldn’t do anything harmful with that staff of hers,” he sighed, “When you’ve been alive for hundreds of years, you don’t pull your punches when you get a chance to get under a significantly older sister’s skin.”

Sumai crossed her arms and looked at him suspiciously, “Well maybe be nicer next time. I don’t want her showing up and carrying me off again just because you put her in a bad mood.”

“She means well,” Roshi argued, waving his hand at her, “I know you young people get into it with your parents, but she wants what is best for you. For Baba, well, sometimes she isn’t the greatest at figuring out how to show that.”

Chi spoke up, “She should learn then,” she smiled at Gyumao, “Father struggled with raising me after Mother died. But he tried to learn - as did I,” she turned to Sumai, “You should speak to your Mother, perhaps. Sometimes, when we feel strongly about someone, it is hard to think clearly concerning them.”

Her eyes drifted to Kakarot for a moment again, and he flushed quickly before looking away. He focused back on the flames, and let the conversation fade away again. Mothers were the last thing he wanted to talk about. He hoped Vegeta would be back soon.

He turned his earlier argument with Vegeta over and over in his head. It had escalated so quickly, he barely had time to process what was happening before Vegeta had stormed off. Bulma followed after him, but it had been hours and they still weren’t back. He knew they were fine, but his heart ached to have things set right with his friend.

After the previous night’s events, he was beginning to have second thoughts about Vegeta’s idea to try and find Saiyan survivors. His family, Vegeta’s family - they were gone. What was the point of searching for strangers? He turned his memories of Gohan over in his mind. Gohan might not have been his real family, but he missed him terribly. Even Bulma, with all her annoyances, had grown on him. The thought of ever losing her horrified him.

Vegeta’s anger when Roshi excluded him from the offer of pupilhood confused Kakarot. He’d made it clear he didn’t have any interest in humans. Every time Kakarot caught him staring out at nothing, he could feel the hungering wistfulness from his friend and knew he was itching to get back into space.

_Maybe if we find all the Dragon Balls, I can wish for him to be happy. I should talk to Master Roshi about waiting to come train with him._

Summoning his courage, he made his way over to Roshi and Gyumao, who were red-faced and chuckling.

“What is it, young Kakarot?” Roshi wheezed, wiping his eyes and taking a long pull from his mug.

“I’m really excited to get to train with you, ‘specially since you trained Grandpa.”

The unspoken “but” hung in the air. Roshi eyed him intently, his face sobering.

“I need to wait until we help Bulma find all the Dragon Balls to come train with ya. We promised to help her and…well, I’m hopin’ that when we make our wishes I can wish for somethin’ to make Vegeta feel better,” he swallowed against the lump in his throat.

Roshi nodded slowly, and Kakarot thought he looked surprised.

“I suppose if your training must wait, that is as noble a reason as any. I don’t suppose you’d be having second thoughts and reconsidering, you don’t seem the type.”

Kakarot shook his head, “No! Of course not. I’m not afraid of nothing!”

A wide grin broke out on Roshi’s face then, and he gave Kakarot a hearty clap on the back, nearly knocking him to the floor.

“Splendid!” His wrinkled fingers reached for his mug again, and he raised it to Gyumao. “To the Turtle Style!”

Gyumao clashed his cup with Roshi’s in a sloppy toast, and Kakarot felt a pang of remembrance as a memory of Nappa and Bardock drinking together surfaced. He shook his head, feeling dizzy. He still wasn’t used to the sudden influx of memories – everything seemed to trigger them.

“Say,” Gyumao began, gulping his drink and leaning towards Kakarot on one arm, “you should come back here to Mt Fa Pan,” he grinned, “Liven up the place now and then. I’m sure Chi wouldn’t mind you stopping by, and maybe I’ll teach you to use that Nyoibou!”

Kakarot nodded solemnly, “Sure, I can do that.”

Roshi sighed, shaking his head dramatically, “Ah, to be young again.” He wagged a finger in Kakarot’s face, “Enjoy it while it lasts, boy. You get a bit gray in the temples and suddenly ladies don’t want your company anymore.”

“Maybe ya shouldn’t ask ‘em for a kiss. Bulma told me that’s not nice,” he stated, trying to be helpful.

Gyumao roared with laughter and Roshi scowled at him, “Right you are, boy, right you are. Perhaps it’s you who will wind up having something to teach.”

* * *

Smoke and the smell of cooking meat reached Vegeta and Bulma as they neared the gates of Mt Fa Pan. A brilliant pink and yellow sunset lit up the village, laying it bare to the naked eye. Each row of houses had a large courtyard behind it, and a fire could be seen lit in the one behind Gyumao’s house.

“Let’s go ahead and land!” Bulma shouted to be heard over the wind and her engine.

Vegeta nodded, surprising her by simply dropping out of the air. Annoyed, she sped past him several meters before the ship finally came to a stop. Gravity fields engaged, she made her slow descent to the ground. Vegeta had already passed her up, walking into the village ahead of her. Muttering to herself, she pulled out her backpack and encapsulated the ship.

“Ungrateful…flew all the way out there…pouting monkey boy.”

The massive gates still stood open, the twilight creeping from behind them in long shadows that seemed to reach for her as she walked closer. Bulma shuddered and hurried to catch up to Vegeta. The rifle made her feel safe during the day, but she definitely preferred to be indoors once the sun was down.

The light shone through the shadows between Gyumao’s house and the gate, illuminating a narrow path beneath the guard stand overhead. Laughter could be heard coming from it, and the smell of food wafted through the opening. Vegeta’s stomach growled audibly at the smell. The fire they had seen was a long pit, its pale stone edging blackened with many uses.

The deer Gyumao and Yamcha had brought back earlier were now roasting on their spits over beds of coals, the sides sliced open to let founts of steam and dripping fat pour forth. Small tables sat between each spit, piled with vegetables and sauces. On each sat a small stack of bowls with several knives and chopsticks. Yamcha was busy at one spit, carving off slices into the bowl Sumai was holding.

Kakarot noticed them and immediately jumped up, “Hey look! Bulma ‘n Vegeta are finally back!”

He was holding a huge chunk of meat in his hands, and he bit into it savagely as they came over.

Bulma smiled. “I see Sumai and Yamcha warned you about the Saiyan’s appetite,” she gestured to the multiple roasting deer.

Gyumao’s laughter boomed throughout the courtyard, “If Kakarot here is any indicator, I should wager that a Saiyan appetite may be the first I’ve encountered that could match my own.”

It wasn’t long before he was proved right, and eventually, even Kakarot and Vegeta stopped refilling their bowls. By that time, the coals had burned down to mere embers, and the deer were nearly gone. The night was silent, aside from the crackling bones amidst the ashes, when Gyumao spoke.

“Well, now that the curse is lifted – and the fire demon defeated,” he nodded at Roshi, “I expect we have much to do. Tomorrow I will send word to an old friend, let him know what has happened. Maybe before long, life will come to Fa Pan once again.”

Bulma leaned toward him intently, “Chi and I talked a little bit yesterday about something her mother collected. It’s called a Dragon Ball. I’ve been collecting them and I was hoping I could talk to you about maybe borrowing it. It’s the second to last one I need.”

Gyumao gave Chi a quizzical look before turning his attention back to Bulma. There was a long pause before he spoke. “Imo collected many things over the years in her travels. She always wished to pass them to Chi, so if you have spoken with her, then the decision lies in her hands.”

Chi was brushing crumbs off her skirt, “I am certain Mother would have wanted to help you, just as I do,” she smiled softly at Roshi, “Now that the curse is lifted from our lands, all of our palace can serve the people again.”

The words brought a frown to Gyumao’s face, “More importantly, we must arrange for a proper burial for Imo.”

Bulma cleared her throat. The quiet of the courtyard was suddenly stiff at the mention of death.

“Of course, it can wait. I didn’t mean to impose.”

Chi shook her head insistently, “You are not imposing – I have shared much about my mother with you all,” she gestured vaguely, “But tending to Mother’s body will be Father’s and my affair, you need not worry yourself.”

Roshi shook his head, stretching and standing, “I’m sorry Gyu, Chi, but I had better not be away from home for too long. I’ll be heading to sleep now, anyway. Need to leave first thing in the morning,” he turned to Kakarot, fixing him with an intense look, “I’ll expect to see you before the winter, young Kakarot,” his voice was firm.

Kakarot nodded enthusiastically, earning him an annoyed grunt from Vegeta, who had been quiet most of the meal. His crossed arms and brooding gaze had prevented anyone from trying to make conversation with him.

The chilly night air was rapidly encroaching on them, forcing the reluctant houseguests and their hosts back indoors. Bulma retreated to her bed, curling up with her journal and poring over her notes & map in the light of the moon. Her mind as full of excitement as her stomach was of food, she scribbled away until eventually her eyes drifted shut in defiance.

Low voices roused her from a fitful slumber, snatches of whispers interspersed with the hum of conversation.

She rubbed at her eyes fiercely with her palms, shifting in her blanket as she sat up and strained to hear. It was Kakarot and Vegeta, but their voices were muffled by the screen separating them. Bulma leaned and listened, her hair nearly brushing the thin silk.

“…and besides, why now?”

 _Vegeta._ She recognized the voice closest to her. A twinge of emotion flitted through her for an instant.

“I dunno, I never could before. Maybe it’s what Grandpa taught me.” Kakarot sounded worn, tired.

“I really wish you would stop calling him that.”

More indistinct muttering from Kakarot.

“Look, I’m not going to stop you from going. But you can’t stay forever. We have to find our people,” Vegeta’s voice was almost pleading.

Kakarot sounded taken aback, “I know, but…what if we can’t find ‘em? What if we’re the only ones who made it?”

Bulma heard a sharp hiss of breath. Her stomach turned and her heart ached for her friends.

_To lose everything…_

She held her breath, waiting for Vegeta to answer. His voice was husky in the dark, defeated and empty.

“What if they need us, Kakarot? You saw the other pods leaving as we left. Who else do they have?”

Kakarot didn’t answer, and Bulma felt like she would burst waiting for one of them to continue.

“Still. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to wait a bit. Go train with the old man. Get strong,” Vegeta’s voice was begrudging, “We have to find a way to get off this planet anyway.”

The floor creaked as one of them rolled over and Bulma heard the rustle of blankets. Neither of them spoke again though, and she wondered if they were always this quiet. She tried to force herself back asleep, but her emotions were swirling. She wanted to help Vegeta earlier and had wondered if she overstepped in scolding him.

_Other pods…_

It was clear Kakarot looked up to him, idolized him even. When Vegeta had flown off that afternoon, Kakarot had looked utterly crushed. It had made her furious, enough to ignore everyone’s protests and chase him down. But it seemed her words had gotten through to him when she cornered him and demanded he go easier on Kakarot.

She wondered what Vegeta planned to do now since he was relenting to Kakarot wanting to be trained by Roshi. Perhaps, she thought, he would do well at Capsule Corp. After all, she was mostly by herself; her mother always busy with social events, and her father either buried in his lab or stuck in a board meeting into the wee hours of the morning.

It was probably for his own good, anyway, she had a sneaking suspicion if she didn’t invite him back to Metro West the idiot would probably just stomp off to the woods again and sleep in a tree. Sighing, she rolled over, snuggling back into her blankets. She would worry about that when it came time. For now, the Dragon Balls were what was important. Sleep quickly overtook her.

* * *

Morning came and with it yet another impressive breakfast spread. Roshi had been gone since before the sun was up, and the conversation turned to the plans for the day. Gyumao and Chi had already been discussing the palace before breakfast, and now returned to the topic. Neat stacks of dishes picked clean towered precariously on the table, clinking periodically as Chi began to clean up. Bulma waited on pins and needles waiting for Chi to bring up the Dragon Balls.

She didn’t want to bring it up herself, since most of Chi’s conversation with Gyumao that morning had centered around retrieving Imo’s body. Of course, she didn’t mind, but she found herself wishing she had made prior arrangements to get it. The idea of hunting through a palace with a dead body in it was none too appealing, but the radar would cut that time short. She shivered with unease and hoped she wouldn’t have to see Imo -whatever was left of her.

Roshi had said the demon was an _onibi,_ and that while they drained their victims’ life forces they left a husk of a body behind. Bulma tried not to think about what a “husk” might look like. A whoop from outside jerked her from her anxious thoughts, and Kakarot and Yamcha burst through the door. Kakarot had needled Yamcha into going outside and training only moments ago. Their words tumbled out in a rush now, and they kept talking over one another.

“ – there’s a _lot_ of birds and some weird bugs - “

“ – grass EVERYWHERE - “

“ – taller than Icarus! - “

“ – and its so _clean! - ”_

Sumai was staring hard at Yamcha, who suddenly stumbled over his words. Her eyes widened and she gasped, “There’s plant life? Outside?”

Gyumao wheezed, slapping his knee and laughing, “Here, in Fa Pan? Nonsense! Nothing urgent has lived here for many years. It will take months before the local flora return; even with the fire demon gone.”

Sumai shook her head, “It was Baba – it had to have been. That’s what she was up to last night with her staff,” her voice was firm and she sighed, “I guess she’ll be back at some point, then.”

Chi had frozen where she stood, a pile of plates wobbling in her hands, “Your mother is that powerful?”

The attention seemed to embarrass Sumai, and she blushed, “Sure, but she’s going to come back now,” she grimaced, “I’m sure she has some plan up her sleeves to use it as leverage. But don’t worry, I’ll deal with her,” Her voice sounded more confident than she looked, and she bit her lip.

Yamcha gave her a small reassuring smile, which seemed to calm Sumai.

She sighed, “I guess we might as well go see, then.”

Kakarot was bouncing erratically on the steps, “Come on! Vegeta you gotta see these trees!” Unable to contain himself anymore, he pulled the door open and hurried back outside. Bulma gasped as she stepped through the open door, taking in the magically restored village that lay in front of them.

The once bare skeletons of bushes now sagged with blossoms, their sharp branches invisible beneath a heavy coat of glossy leaves. Trees towered along the outside of the walls in clusters, and saplings dotted the narrow alleys between houses, their tips stretching to the sky as if they were fingers and hands trying to climb to the roof. Here and there, a tiny butterfly flitted between blossoms, and birds called to one another with rapid trills and tweets.

A sweet scent caught her nose, and she inhaled deeply as she stepped down into the street. The piles of dust had disappeared, uncovering the stone roads of the village. A gust of wind billowed towards them then, carrying a cool tickle of mountain snow. Chi laughed in delight, spinning until her skirts flared out as she waltzed towards the village square. The massive fountain that had lain dusty in the center square frothed and bubbled, splashing the dusty basin below into hundreds of ripples.

Kakarot was racing to catch up to her, chattering about his favorite apple trees at Gohan’s house and asking if she knew what was good to pick in the village. Vegeta strode to pace with him, and Bulma watched in amusement as Yamcha and Sumai stared in awe at the looming garden around them.

Gyumao’s spoke but Bulma jumped at the sound, a chill racing over her skin.

“It certainly is beautiful…it is a shame Imo will not see it again,” his voice was sad, but he smiled slightly at her, “I do not wish to spoil Chi’s excitement so soon. Perhaps you would go alone to retrieve the dragon ball?” he gestured to the radar she was still clutching in her hand, “If you can use that device to find it, I will give you permission to enter the palace. Chi and I will see to Imo once we see you and yours safely off.”

Relief washed over Bulma. She certainly planned to be in and out, but it would be quicker if she went alone.

“Of course, I understand. I’ll just go now, no need to have the boys go with me. It looks like its pretty close to the entrance.”

Gyumao nodded, “Imo’s study was within the first level, I am almost certain it will be there.”

Taking advantage of the exciting discovery and her friends’ distracted chatter, Bulma headed up the steep steps. The front gate loomed tall, swallowing her up as she climbed higher. The stairs were impressive, jutting out of the very mountain face from which they appeared to have been carved. She tried not to lag, but the closer she got, the icier her stomach felt. Her skin tingled as she approached the door, and she took a deep breath before pushing it open.

The radar clicked faster, the orange light blinking in the dim interior. Shadows crept across the room and she squinted impatiently waiting for her eyes to adjust. Stark blocks of daylight slivered through shuttered windows, pale white contrasted with the dark furniture and walls.

A thick layer of dust covered everything in sight, threatening a sneezing fit to anyone who might miss their step or stumble. Tiptoeing, she scurried through the seemingly never-ending maze of corridors towards the pulsing dot. A sigh of relief escaped her lips and her chest sagged with relief as she rounded a corner to a wide alcove.

Maps covered the walls and odd figures hung from ropes strung across the ceiling. She ducked carefully through stacks of books and crates of notes and tools, hoping nothing would fall on her head. At last, her search ended as a familiar bright orange sphere on a crowded desk gave a single soft glow.

Pulling one of the dragon balls from her bag, Bulma held it up to the one that lay on the desk and grinned in spite of the gloomy room as the shine became brighter. Not wanting to waste precious time, she stuffed them both back in her back and hurried out of the room, deliberately avoiding looking behind her until she was out of the palace and well down the steps. Just in case anything was left of Imo.

The village truly was breathtaking from this height, and despite her eagerness to leave any supernatural encounter behind, her pace slowed as she took in the scenery around her. It seemed that the sudden burst of plant life was not limited to Fa Pan’s village. Lush green crept its way from the front gates, snaking across the ground where just a day before the earth had been gouged and parched. The breeze no longer felt like a gust from an oven, instead offering now a relief she hadn’t felt since they returned Kami to the ocean.

Her gaze drifted to her companions, who were seated around the edge of the fountain laughing and chatting comfortably. Vegeta caught her eye for a moment, his face unreadable. Bulma felt her face flush and she swallowed, trying to maintain composure. Something about those dark eyes was off-putting, especially when she caught him staring at her like that. Before she could call him on it, he looked away and crossed his arms.

Kakarot bounded up to her, his face a wide grin, “Gyumao says I can come back any time and visit!”

His joyful smile was always pure and infectious.

She smiled at him as they walked together to the fountain, “I’m not sure you’ll have time, I think Roshi plans to keep you quite busy. I bet you’re in a hurry to help me finish finding the dragon balls then, huh?”

He shrugged, “I guess, yeah. But you’re okay too, we have fun.”

Bulma choked back a laugh. Kakarot’s frank manner still took her by surprise sometimes. She sat down next to Sumai, relishing in the relief the cool stone and fine mist brought.

“I guess it has been fun, even if it’s been a crazy past few days. I’m sure the last one will be just as exciting,” she forced herself to look at Vegeta again, “We really should be going soon, anyway.”

“Wait,” Sumai said, putting a hand on Bulma’s arm, “Yamcha and I have decided to stay here.”

Bulma looked at Gyumao, then Yamcha, surprised, “Is this true?”

Gyumao nodded, smiling, “Yamcha and I spoke at length, and he would like to remain here. I would like to see Fa Pan filled with people again, and who better to be the first than someone who has spent their whole life by the mountain? I’m sure he will make for a fine hunting companion.”

Yamcha smiled shyly at the compliment.

Sumai continued, “And to be honest, this was getting to be a little too much adventure for my taste. Things were simple when it was just the two of us, in the forest, and giant centipedes weren’t trying to snack on my face.“

She gazed adoringly at Yamcha, who blushed and cleared his throat.

“We wanted to thank you – all three of you – for letting us travel with you. I never would have gotten closure about…about my family if it wasn’t for you. I owe you a tremendous debt.”

Bulma smiled warmly at them both, “I will always cherish our adventures together. Maybe sometime soon I can come back and visit you both. For now, though, I’m just going to worry about getting that last Dragon Ball. The next one is near the mountains of the Eastern Capital, but it’s several days ride away from here. We should leave as soon as possible.”

Gyumao’s tone was sharp, “The Eastern Capital? Heed me…be extremely cautious. After the war, there were several assassinations of top government officials, and the city was plunged into chaos. The current governor is a dishonest crook, and the city is crawling with crime, why, even the countryside is full of bandits,” he placed a protective arm on Chi’s shoulder, “Even when I must go to the city for supplies Chi stays here, where it is safe, as I cannot guarantee her safety there.”

Chi nodded before impulsively hugging Bulma, “Please be careful. You must be safe, come back and visit us in one piece?” she wore a worried look on her face as she pulled back and clasped Bulma’s hands in her own.

Bulma nodded reassuringly, hoping her faith in her companions, and her guns was not misplaced.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completely fan-made work and is not officially affiliated in any way with or endorsed by the Dragon Ball universe, franchise, films, manga, tv specials or games. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, Dragon Ball Super, and all associated franchises are the property of Akira Toriyama, Fuji TV, Toei Animation, Funimation, and their respective creators, writers, artists & publishers. Please support the official release.


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